HP: The Secret Path
by marcwill90
Summary: As Marcus returns to Hogwarts, it's not long before things start getting out of control. Terrible things start happening and no one seems to know what's going on. Victims become mysteriously petrified, himself and Harry experience things that shouldn't happen, and Hogwarts becomes unsafe. Will Marcus and his friends find the one responsible, or will Hogwarts be forever closed?
1. (01) Memories

**Welcome, one and all, to the second book! I'm really glad to get this one going, because I believe that, as long as you guys enjoy what I post, that makes me glad to post even more! So, there are a few things I need to clarify. From this book on, the story will mostly be seen through Marcus's POV. Also, I will be posting one chapter at a time, unlike the last book where I basically posted the entire book at once. Lastly, there may be times where posting isn't as frequent as normal as other writers. That's due to the fact that I have other responsibilites, but I will do everything I can to ensure posts are put up at a good rate of time. So, now that I've covered everything I wanted to cover for now, without further ado, here's...**

 **HP: The Secret Path**

 **Disclaimer: Yeah, no ownership of HP, no surprise. All OC's in this series, however, are mine, so boo-yah!**

 **Chapter one: Memories**

 **Let's get the ball rolling!**

In a peaceful valley that lies outside the city of Cambridge, with lush green grass and thriving trees, lies the Williams Manor. And it's residents are Michael Williams, Head Auror of the Ministry of Magic, Brynn Williams, Auror of the Ministry of Magic, and Marcus Williams, a student at Hogwarts approaching his second year.

Marcus Williams was unsure of moving to England and attending Hogwarts at first. New place, new people, new everything. He was scared that he would get the same treatment that he did in the past: Cold shoulders, isolation, branded a freak.

He didn't feel as strongly about that when he met Harry Potter, which was an interesting event in and of itself. Him and Rubeus Hagrid, the Gamekeeper at Hogwarts, traveled by flying motorcycle to reach an island in the middle of the the sea. Harry Potter was nothing like what Marcus thought he was going to be. He was kind, thoughtful, and unbiased, though he didn't know anything about the Wizarding World or even that he was a wizard himself. It wasn't his fault though. His Muggle relatives did everything they could to withold that information from them. To Marcus' relief, they failed miserably as Harry and him went to get their school supplies together with Hagrid and eventually managed to get on the Hogwarts Express, despite their initial confusion.

He met someone else on that train who would eventually be another good friend to him: Ronald Weasley, or Ron, as he preferred to be called. Marcus was able to relate to Ron a lot because they both knew the ins and outs of the Wizarding World, having been a part of it their entire lives. Ron also had five older brothers and one younger sister, two of his brothers having graduated from Hogwarts. This made Marcus a bit jealous at times, as he was an only child and couldn't relate to the joys and nuisances that came with having siblings. The only thing that Marcus could fault Ron for was that he wasn't exactly the most motivated person in the world, but he knew the potential was there.

Marcus smirked as he remembered his first few months at Hogwarts. It was an absolute marvel, to say the least. There were so many mysteries that the castle had, and he knew that he had to find as many as he could before he graduated from the school. However, something else happened that made Marcus enjoy Hogwarts all the more: Another new, good friend, whose name was Hermione Granger.

Hermione was a mix between himself and Harry. As she was a Muggle-born witch, she knew next to nothing about the Wizarding World, but she pushed herself to know all she could about the new, interesting world she became a part of. Of course, that kind of mindset worked as a double-edged sword, as her newfound knowledge and intelligence worked the irritation of those around her, one such person being Ron. On Halloween, however, when her life was threatened, the three of them saved her from the mountainous troll that had been set loose inside the castle. Marcus could still remember Harry working hours afterwards cleaning the Troll boogers off from his wand.

Just as the four of them became friends, they knew something was going on behind the scenes, due to having accidently ran into Fluffy, Hagrid's Cerberian Hound, on the right hand side of the third floor earlier in the year. They eventually found that Hogwarts was safekeeping the Sorcerer's Stone, a wondrous rock that could turn any metal into pure gold and created the Elixer of Life, making the owner of said rock immortal and rich.

They all assumed that Snape was after the stone, but eventually realized that Voldemort was the one who wanted the stone. He wanted to have a body of his own and the only way he could do it as soon as possible was to drink the Elixer of Life. They knew that they had to get past the teachers' enchantments in order to get to it first.

Marcus sighed after remembering all the things they had to go through for him and Harry to get to the end, only to find Quirrell waiting for them, something that shocked Harry. Marcus did have his suspicions, but wasn't sure until that moment. As satisfying as it was to thwart Voldemort of achieving his goal, there was something that kept nagging him, ever since he got off the Hogwarts Express for summer break.

He somehow kept thinking that the Dark Prince was involved in the events of last school year, but to what degree? Did he merely keep tabs on the situation, or was he involving himself directly in the plot? As Marcus keep thinking over the few days that he was there at home, doing his summer school work, riding on his broomstick and writing to his friends, he was somewhat assured that the latter was unlikely. After all, the Dark Prince was still at Azkaban, British's Wizarding Prison. Since it was so isolated from the rest of the world, he didn't have anything to worry there.

"Marcus!" yelled his father, bringing him back to reality. "Is everything packed yet? We have to leave in an hour for your camp!"

Amongst the few things that Marcus was looking forward to over the summer, the U.S. All-Stars Quidditch Camp was one of them. He received the invitation a little late, sometime in late spring, but he was still excited nonetheless. The U.S. All-Stars had four levels of Quidditch Camp for youths and young adults like him to attend. There was the Basic Camp, which was designed to cover the bare necesseties of Quidditch. Things like how to properly grip your broom, the rules of Quidditch, what each member of a Qudditch Team does, and doing basic moves. Next was the Intertmediate Camp. That level went over things like the intricacies of moves, how to read your opponent's moves, and how to fool them.

He was going to be attending the Advanced Camp, which was something he was looking forward to. This camp went over the more complex movesets in any given Quidditch match, moves that were designed to stump opponents nine times out of ten, and how to not just deal with bad weather, but to thrive in it. He also heard that, this particular year, there would be an interesting prize involved, but as Braxton didn't really go into details, he didn't know much about it.

There was just one camp above advanced, which was called the Master Camp. Getting to attend this camp meant that any given individual was a prospect for the U.S. All-Stars team itself, and that in order to earn their given position on the team, they had to compete and show that they had what it takes to endure the unusually grueling training regimen and perform in a series of matches under different kinds of conditions to show that they could not only handle it, but come out on top.

Marcus knew that he had to make the most of the Advanced Camp because it was highly unlikely that he was not going to be going to the Master Camp, due to the fact that he was not going to pursue a Quidditch career once graduated from Hogwarts.

"Coming right down, Dad!" he yelled, grabbing the remaining things that he pack for the camp. As he brought down his things, including his Nimbus Two Thousand, he looked at his parents, who were waiting for him by the door and his father said, "Well, son, are you all ready?"

"Not quite," said Marcus. "There's a couple of questions that I need answers to."

"Um, sure, Marcus," said Brynn. "What did you have in mind?"

He focused until he felt the sensation come to his eyes and asked, "These eyes...how did I come to possess these kind of eyes?"

Michael and Brynn hesitated before Brynn answered, "You inherited them from my side of the family. Those eyes originate from the medieval ages. Only the royal people, mainly nobles and rulers, were gifted with the ability of seeing the truth and shield them from minor harm. Of course, it didn't protect them from some things, so I wouldn't get the wrong idea."

Marcus nodded his head, satisfied with the answer, and proceeded to say, "And I somehow have the ability to talk to dragons. Mind telling me how?"

"My family, again," Brynn said, now looking thouroughly embarrassed. "Dragons were once renowned as a wealth of knowledge and information in medieval times. Witches and wizards promised to fend them off from Muggles in exchange for providing them with information. So, the dragons taught magic folk the ability to speak to them, in the language of Drakon. My family's ancenstry origins consists of a wizard who was given the gift to speak Drakon and has been passed down ever since."

"Does that mean you can speak it too, Mom?!" asked Marcus.

"Yeah, but it's been a long time since I've actually encountered a dragon," said Brynn. "Actually, modern dragons are too ferocious to get in one word with them."

"Right," said Marcus. "One last thing. How come my hair is white?"

"Sorry, son, but you're not old enough for that answer," said Michael. "Tell you what: Your mom and I will tell you at the end of your fourth year at Hogwarts. I think your mother will agree with me when I say that you'll be old enough to understand then. Until then, no more bringing it up."

"I won't," said Marcus, who knew that it would be pointless to pursue it further.

"Now, let's get going to your camp," Brynn said. "Braxton is really anxious for your arrival."

With all of his luggage with him, Marcus and Brynn held onto Michael's sleeves and apparated to America.

After getting everything squared away at "The Dragon's Maw" in Merlin's Village, Michael, Brynn, and Marcus made their way to the U.S's National Qudditch Stadium. As soon as they saw the stadium that was was covered in red, white, and blue, with flags and stars, Marcus got a smirk as he said, "It's about time! I've been looking forward to this, especially after that horrible visit to Malfoy's Manor earlier this summer."

"Yes, nothing really got accomplished there, did it?" said Michael, who didn't look happy at the thought of it, either.

"That's not true," said Marcus. "I did get Malfoy's hair to turn jet black, so it wasn't a total loss."

"So, that was you!" Brynn scolded.

"I regret absolutely nothing," said Marcus with a smirk as they walked onto the Quidditch pitch.

Marcus took a moment to survey what would be his training for the next two weeks. The towers was decked out with silver stars, the wall surrounding the pitch was designed with American themes over it's history, and of course, the U.S. Flag was stationed at the top of every tower.

"I wonder where Braxton could be?" asked Michael.

No sooner had he said that than a tall, burly man came landing in front of Marcus with his long, brown hair tied back in a ponytail saying, "There you are, Marcus! We were worried you weren't going to make it! Everyone else is up in the air!"

"I wouldn't miss this for anything, Braxton," said Marcus, who immediately mounted his Nimbus Two Thousand and grouped up with the rest of the campers.

"We'll leave him in your capable hands, Braxton," said Brynn as Marcus' parents disapparated.

As Braxton took to the air, he looked at all the campers and said, "Welcome, talented Quidditch players, to the 250th U.S. Quidditch Advanced Training Camp! Over the next two weeks, you'll be given extensive training over the complex movesets, how to adapt in different situations, and learning to play under pressure as well as thriving in bad weather! Chasers will be training with myself, Vivian Jasper and Renee Harley." He pointed to Jasper, a smaller, more nimble Chaser with raven hair and a big smile on her face as she kept throwing the Quaffle in the air; and Harley, a taller, curvier woman with blonde hair and a face that was intimidating enought to send shivers up the Chaser's spines, including Marcus. "Beaters will be training with Tyler and Tyrone Powers." He pointed to twin men who had untidy, short brown hair, giving off grins that were very mischevious. Marcus was reminded strongly of the Weasley Twins just by looking at them. "Keepers will be training with Peyton Ignatius." Everyone looked at the giant of a man, whose head was vacant of any hair, but made up for it with sheer size, making it a challenge to get by him. "And lastly, Seekers will be trained by Penelope Force." Everyone looked at the woman who was laying face up on her broomstick, her short, red hair moving with the wind.

"Well, that should be it for introductions," said Braxton. "Follow your coaches to the training stations and let's get started."

Feeling a rush of adrenaline, Marcus took off with the rest of the Chasers, feeling excited for what he could possibly learn.


	2. (02) This One Time, At Quidditch Camp

Chapter 2: This One Time, At Quidditch Camp...

 **Enjoy!**

The next week and six days flew by in a blur. Not only did he make new friends, but he learned many moves that he knew that his fellow classmates (and perhaps even some of the older students) didn't know. Even Braxton was proud of how well the other campers were shaping up, which was saying something considering how critical he usually was of everyone. He announced that they were going to have a full-on Quidditch match in front of a crowd on the last day of the camp, and the winning team was going to get an amazing prize: A customized Nimbus Two Thousand and One for each member of the winning team, something wasn't even on the market yet. As he took his shower alone, he wondered, not on he was going to perform tomorrow, but how his friends were doing.

Of course, he recieved a few letters from Ron and Hermione. Hermione's were mostly consisted of questions regarding their summer homework while Ron was asking him how the camp was going. He also invitied him to stay at the Burrow for the rest of the summer immediatly after camp and how they already got the permission from his parents. While he was looking forward to that the most this summer, something else bothered him.

He hadn't recieved any letters from Harry. At first, he figured that perhaps those evil gits of Muggles were intercepting his mail again. However, as each day of camp was whisked away, he was starting to get the feeling that something was wrong.

He was thinking so deeply in thought, getting himself dried off and dressed that, by the time he finished getting dressed and walked into the rest of the locker room, he didn't notice a voice saying, "Hey, Marcus! There you are!"

He looked up to find his Quidditch Team for tomorrow's match-up sitting at the playboard, waiting for their captain: Him.

"Sorry about that," Marcus said as he made his way to the playboard.

"All right, everyone, here's how tomorrow's going to work," he told them. "Their Chasers rely on getting down the pitch fast rather than teamwork, leaving passing and movement to a bare minimum. They believe that a spearhead approach will be the best option in gaining and keeping the momentum of the match. At the very least, they want to not let the Quaffle get in our hands until the Snitch shows itself."

The Seeker, Ariel, looked at everyone and said, "I'm sorry, you guys. I wish I was a better Seeker."

"Ariel, you are a great Seeker," Marcus told her. "Salem Academy will be lucky to have you as a Seeker."

It was true, Ariel was a great Seeker. She had the right build and instincts to be one. The problem was that the opposing Seeker seemed like a natural at it. In this aspect, Marcus was strongly reminded of Harry, and that made him nervous.

He snapped himself out of deep thought to look at the team again and said, "Our goal tomorrow is to score more points than the Snitch is worth."

"Are you kidding me, Williams?!" said Peros, one of the Chasers.

"How do you expect us to score more than a hundred and fifty points?!" asked Edwards, the other Chaser on the team.

"By controlling the Bludgers," said Marcus, who elaborated his plan on the playboard. "If we can control the Bludgers in our favor, that will allow us to limit their plans and utilize ours. We'll need to be quick in passing and trick their Keeper into going for the first signs of scoring. Ivan, all you have to do is react to the Quaffle, not anticipate, and you'll be fine. Ben, Jack, our success will largely fall on your shoulders. Think you can handle it?"

"Yes, sir!" shouted Ben and Jack, who were looking a little too eager about the prospect.

"Peros, Edward, we'll start out basic and adjust from there," said Marcus.

As the other two Chasers nodded their heads, he looked to the whole team and said, "Team, time for bed!"

Marcus was really grateful for the team that he was given for the Camp Quidditch Match.

Peros was a smaller guy, who had to be no taller than 4'5", but he was tenacious and a go-getter, though that led him to make simple mistakes from time to time. Edwards, on the other hand, stood around 5' 6", was more analytical and mindful, but it also had a tendency to lead to hesitation at times.

The Keeper, Ivan, was his natural player. Around 5' 2", Ivan didn't have too much height, but made up for it in with a stocky build. He had good reflexes and performed the best between the keepers at the camp. He didn't have any concerns about being scored on with Ivan being at the hoops.

His beaters, Ben and Jack, were knuckleheads that thought along the same lines. They came across as immature, sure, but the last thing Marcus wanted to be was the receiving end of one of their Bludger hits. They had already put a couple of campers out of action because of their Bludger hits.

Lastly, his Seeker, Ariel, was a passive girl. She didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings and did whatever she was told. When she gets into a Quidditch match, however, her personality changes and she'll chase down the Snitch to the ends of the earth. Marcus knew that she would be a top-tier Seeker by the time she was done with school.

Marcus made his way to his room in "The Dragon's Maw," and got himself into bed, hoping for a peaceful night.

However, as fate would have it, he would find this night anything but peaceful.

He found himself, once again, at the top of Azkaban, where the Dark Prince was kept. In a room with barely any lighting, he saw the Dark Prince put his left index finger on his right shoulder and said, "Is there something I can help you with, servant?"

It was silent for a few seconds before he said, "Ah, so you've been experiencing problems at the office? My, my, servant, you mean to tell me that, with all your money and influence, you can't make that simple dunderhead of a Minister give way?"

Silence was prominent for quite some time before the Dark Prince said, "Well, an act of protection for their kind? I can see where the problem may lie. And, despite their financial status, they're rather connected. However, I have a bigger task for you to worry about."

All of a sudden, the Dark Prince shouted, "DON'T TALK WHEN I'M TALKING, SERVANT! KNOW YOUR PLACE!"

He had a smug look on his face before saying, "Much better. Now, let's see, where was I? Ah, yes, my task to you. Feel honored, servant, for this is a task directly from the Dark Lord that was appointed to you before his...untimely disappearance."

His smug look broke into a smile before he said, "In a few days time, you'll recieve an envelope from your house-elf. When you recieve it, you are to carry out the task exactly as it describes the next day. I don't care what you have to tell the Ministry to worm your way out of work that day. I'm sure your forked tongue will suffice. Once you're finished, you are to guard it. Yes, guard it, nothing more, nothing less."

His smile never wavered as he said, after a few seconds, "You're asking what uses does it have? My dear servant, I couldn't possibly tell you. You know the Dark Lord works very much in secret. If you're curious, however, I'm sure there's no harm in experimenting. Anyway, that's all I require of you for now."

He lifted his finger from his shoulder and said, "I was right to appoint him to this task. As real as it may be, he has no idea that I'm manipulating him. If he acts exactly the way I think he will, I'll be killing two birds with one stone."

The chamber echoed with his chuckling as Marcus felt the blackness close around him, pulling him into the abyss.

He felt shaking from his left side and a voice saying, "Williams, Williams, wake up! It's time to get ready!"

He opened his eyes and said, "Peros, is that you? How long do I have to get ready?"

"One hour," he told him. "Then we'll have to gather in the tunnel."

"All right," said Marcus. "I'll be there in a half-hour."

As he was getting his Quidditch robes on, he thought to himself, _"I haven't had a Dark Prince nightmare in a while. I wonder what that was about? Something about a task the Dark Lord appointed. But what could that be?"_

He shook his head as he continued, _"I can't worry about that now. I have something else to take care of."_

As he was standing at the end of the tunnel going out to the pitch with the rest of the team, he could hear the crowd getting in their seats, the excited murmurings amongst one another. He knew that, to the crowd, this was a big event to attend.

"All right, team," Marcus said to them, his face still looking on ahead. "Don't pay attention to the crowd. We focus on the tasks that we are meant to do. We stick with our plan, and the Blue Team won't stand a chance."

"Right!" they all said in unison.

"Oh, by the way, is it too late to change our Quidditch robes?" he asked them as he tugged on his own white Quidditch robes.

"Yes," everyone else deadpanned.

Marcus took a sigh before saying, "I thought so."

He heard Braxton starting to commentate the opponent's entrance and he said, "Everyone, mount your brooms!"

After he heard no commentating from Braxton, he shouted, "White Team, take off!"

As they flew to the air above the Quidditch Pitch, Marcus heard Braxton say, "And here comes the White Team! Williams, Peros, Edwards, Ben, Jack, Ivan, and Penelope! Their performance in camp was remarkable, but can they pull out a win today? Only time will tell! Captains, please make your way to the referee!"

As Marcus touched down in the center of the pitch, he noticed the commentator's box was full with family and close friends of the campers. He didn't have time to find his own parents before he found himself in front of the Blue Team's Captain, a slender girl with black hair tied in a ponytail and a determined look on her face.

The referee, who was a young man with unruly blonde hair, said, "Remember, Captains, a nice, clean game. Now, shake hands."

As Marcus shook hands with their Captain, she leaned in close and said, "Those custom-made Nimbus 2001s belong to my team, Williams."

"We'll see about that," he said with a smirk as he let go of the handshake and joined the rest of his team.

"Ben, Jack, get a little bit higher than the rest of us," he told his two Beaters. "Ivan, react, don't anticipate. Get to the goal posts."

As he saw Ivan fly to the center post, he looked at Peros and Edwards and said, "Everything will be determined by the toss-up. I'll grab it, you two will shoot on ahead of me. Understand?"

The two boys nodded and took their positions next to him as he saw the referee blow the whistle and the Quaffle being tossed into the air.

 _"I'll have to be careful here,"_ Marcus thought to himself. _"I can't go for the Quaffle until a second after it starts making it's descent."_

And, just as it started coming down, he thought to himself, _"Now!"_

He shot forward and grabbed the Quaffle just in time away from their Captain and started to shoot up the pitch to catch up with Peros and Edwards. He could vaguely hear Braxton saying something, but he was too focused on the game now.

Just as he caught up with his fellow Chasers, he passed it to Peros, who swerved out of one of the opposing Chaser's attempts to grab the Quaffle, and shot it to Edwards, who took a straight nose dive and kicked it back up to Marcus, who only had the Keeper to get past at this point.

 _"All right, then,"_ he thought. _"Let's try that move."_

He shot straight at the Keeper, who looked a little nervous and was shocked to find that Marcus suddenly jumped to the left.

 _"Wait for it,"_ Marcus told himself.

He saw the Keeper start going for the far goal post and Marcus couldn't help but smirk as he thought, _"Got ya now!"_

All of a sudden, he twirled in a circle a few times before rocketing the Quaffle towards the center hoop, leaving the Keeper trying to save it, but failed miserably as the Quaffle went through.

As he heard the ding of the bell, Marcus then heard Braxton say, "And Marcus Williams pulls off a fantastic Cyclone Psych, a Chaser feint designed to make the Keeper guess which goal the Chaser is going to go for. White Team is up Ten to Zero!"

Marcus, Peros, and Edwards had little time to celebrate, however, as they saw the opposing Chaser zoom up the field with the Quaffle.

"I knew they would do that!" shouted Marcus. "Peros, Edwards, let's go!"

However, the opposing Chasers didn't get very far as Marcus saw Ben whack a Bludger out of the corner of his eye, the Bludger whizzing at the unsuspecting Chaser with the Quaffle and was blindsided when the Bludger whacked the side of the poor Chaser's head, forcing the Quaffle to drop.

"Nice," said Marcus as he caught it and started shooting down the opposite way.

As the game continued, the Blue Team started to get rougher with their tactics to little avail. Each time they tried a different way, Marcus, Peros, and Edwards would just outmanuver them and fake out their Keeper in order to score.

Eventually, Braxton said, "And with that goal by Peros, White Team is up 150-10! Spectacular performance so far and - wait, was that the Snitch?!"

Marcus whipped around and, to his horror, saw that Braxton was right: the Snitch decided to show itself, and he saw Ariel chase after it with their Seeker.

"No, no, it's too early!" shouted Marcus. He zoomed to his Beaters and said, "Ben, Jack, concentrate the Bludgers at their Seekerl! Give us enough time to score two more goals!"

Ben and Jack zoomed away while Marcus saw Peros and Edwards zooming towards the opposing Keeper. Peros saw Marcus in time, zoomed to the Keepers right and said, "Marcus, get it in!"

He rocketed it towards Marcus, who caught and threw it in the middle goal.

 _"Calm down, calm down!"_ thought Marcus, _"All I have to do is have one of us intercept their Chasers and zoom down to the hoops again! Please, team, hold out a little bit longer!"_

It was in his moment that he saw his chance: The Blue Team's Captain was coming his way with the Quaffle under her left arm.

"PEROS, EDWARDS, NOW!" shouted Marcus.

Peros came in from her left and Edwards shortly afterwards from her right. Both of them missed the Quaffle, but it forced her to hold the Quaffle above her head, which caused Marcus to zoom straight at her. Before she could react, Marcus swiped the Quaffle from her possession and started zooming down the pitch as fast as he could.

"And Marcus Williams is just screaming down the pitch, but the Blue Team's Seeker is close to capturing the Snitch!" he heard Braxton say.

 _"Crap, I'm not going to make it!"_ he thought to himself as he was too far away to throw it without the Keeper saving it. _"All right, desparation move time!"_

All of a sudden, he tossed the Quaffle in the air, dismounted his broom, grabbed it, and swung at the Quaffle with the back end of the broom, causing it to go much faster at the right hoop.

As their Keeper barely missed it and saw it go in, he heard the referee's whisle blow and he turned around to saw that their Seeker did indeed grab the Snitch.

"And the final score of the match is 170-160! The White Team Wins!" said Braxton.

Before he knew it, he felt himself getting mobbed from all sides by his teammates, who were besides themselves, overcomed by joy and happiness over their victory.

As they all touched down, Peros said to him, "That was amazing! We actually scored more points than the Snitch is worth!"

"This couldn't have happened without everyone's help," Marcus told them all. "I'm proud of you all!"

He then saw Braxton coming over to him and said, "Congratulations, White Team! Tell me, what's the name of that strategy?"

"The White Spear," Marcus said. "The team insisted on the name."

"You utilized the Bludgers to limit your opponents and relied on tricking their Keeper with passes and feints," stated Braxton. "If they would've caught on to your Beaters sooner, the whole strategy would've fell apart."

"Their focus was holding us off until the Snitch showed itself," said Edwards. "They were too narrow minded to catch on."

"Well, you've got a point," said Braxton, who looked over to see that the Blue Team was looking to the ground.

"Meet back up here on the pitch after you've hit the showers," Braxton told them. "That's when you will all be getting your custom made Nimbus 2001s."

As they cheered and hollared, Marcus heard a familiar voice saying behind him saying, "That was excellent flying out there, son."

He looked to see his Mom and Dad smiling at him.

"You remind me so much of your father," said Brynn. "He was quite the Chaser himself back when he was at Hogwarts."

"You've never told me that, Father!" exclaimed Marcus.

"Well, I don't really like to brag about it," said Michael. "Yes, James, Braxton, and myself were Gryffindor Chasers during my time there. We were known as the Invincible Trio, and James was the best out of the three of us."

"James?" asked Marcus. "You mean Harry's Dad?"

"Of course," said Brynn. "Where do you think Harry got his Quidditch talent from? Now, go on, get a shower. We've already got everything ready to go, so just meet us outside of the stadium and we'll apparate to the Burrow."

Feeling excited at the prospect at staying with Ron, he said, "Got it!" and took off with the other team members to the showers.

Once he got out of stadium, his new broom in hand, he found his Mom and Dad and said, "All right, I'm all showered and ready to go!"

"All right, then!" said Brynn. "Hold on to your father's left sleeve."

Once he did that, he felt the familiar sensation of being stuffed in a tube and, just like that, they were gone.


	3. (03) Summer At The Weasleys

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I do, however, own the OC's.**

Chapter 3: Summer at the Weasleys

 **Enjoy!**

As Marcus and his parents were standing in front of the Burrow, Marcus said, "Well, I don't think Ron's up yet. It wouldn't hurt to give him a wake-up call, would it?"

"Marcus!" Brynn scolded. "You know that would be rude!"

"Come on," Michael said, gesturing his family to follow him up to the front door.

He proceeded to knock three times before the door was opened by a man with receeding red hair, but a plesant look on his face as he said, "Michael! It's so good to see you!"

"It's good to see you too, Arthur!" said Michael as he proceeded to shake his hand. "Oh, you're familiar with my wife, Brynn?"

"Ah, yes, of course!" exclaimed Arthur, who shook her hand as well.

"And this is my son, Marcus," Michael said, gesturing to Marcus, who suddenly felt a little uneasy.

"Merlin's Beard!" the man said as he shook his hand. " THE Marcus Williams! What a pleasure!"

"Um, yeah," said Marcus, unable to say much of anything else.

"Well, let's go inside," said Mr. Weasley, "I dare say the kids are going to be up here soon."

While the adults were talking, Marcus had his mind on other things, one of which was the Dark Prince's task to the mysterious servant. What exactly was so valuable that the Dark Prince would ensure that it was guarded? And what exactly did he meant when he said he'd be killing two birds with one stone?

The other thing that was bothering him was the lack of contact with Harry. He had plenty of contact with Ron and Hermione, but not Harry. Were the Muggles he was living with interfering with his mail like last year's events? It was possible, sure, but that still wouldn't stop Harry if he was determined enough. No, he concluded that it ultimately had to be outside interference, and that was going to be troubling, to say the least.

He was in this mindset when he heard a familiar voice saying, "Blimey, Marcus, is that you?!"

He looked to the source of the voice and couldn't help but smirk when he saw his ginger-haired friend, Ron Weasley, smiling back at him from the top of the stairs.

"Who else do you know that has white hair at our age, Ron?" asked Marcus as he gave Ron a hug.

"So, you're the Ron I've heard so much about," said Michael. "Tell me, is Marcus causing any trouble?"

"No, sir, nothing of the sort!" exclaimed Ron, who Marcus noticed was acting a little strange.

Michael chuckled before saying, "I'm just teasing, of course. By the way, I hear you're an excellent Wizard's Chess player. We'll have to have a match sometime."

"Well, I don't know about that, sir," said Ron as he felt somewhat embarrassed.

"Well, Molly, Michael and I have to get going to the Ministry," said Brynn, who looked at Ron and said, "I hope you treat Marcus well, Ron."

Marcus definitely noticed Ron blushing as he said, "You can count on me, ma'am!"

Michael chuckled before saying, "All right, Marcus, we'll see you when it's time to pick up your school supplies from Diagon Alley."

With that, Michael and Brynn took their leave from the Burrow.

"And that's why we called her 'The Red Siren' back when I was in Hogwarts," stated who Marcus surmised to be Mrs. Weasley.

Ron, who was starting to get back in touch with reality, said rather stupidly, "Huh?"

His mother laughed and said, "My point exactly. Now, go help Marcus get his things into your room. Breakfast should be ready by the time you're done."

As Marcus and Ron made their way up the stairs, Marcus looked at Ron and said, "Are you all right, Ron? You seem a little out of it."

"Well, it's just...meeting them in person seemed so surreal," Ron said in awe.

"Surreal?" Marcus asked with a confused face.

"Well, they're your parents, so you're used to being around them," explained Ron. "But, for someone like me, who've only heard stories about them-"

"What stories?" Marcus asked.

His eyes lighting up, Ron turned to face Marcus and said, "What stories?! Where do I even start?! Blimey, there's the most famous one, The Battle of London."

"The Battle of London?" Marcus asked in confusion.

"That's where your father faced against You-Know-Who and your mother against the Dark Prince!" said Ron in amazement. "It was there where your father's famous Duplication Spell was first witnessed as well as him breaking You-Know-Who's Cruciatus Curse!"

Marcus, not sure of what to say, looked at the door in front of them and asked, "So, this is your room?"

"Well, it's not much," said Ron sheepishly as he opened the door, causing Marcus to walk into a Chudley Cannons plastered room.

"I take it your favorite Quidditch Team is the Chudley Cannons?" asked Marcus with a smirk on his face.

"Of course," said Ron with a smile. His smile, however, faded as he said, "So, your parents never told you?"

Marcus shifted uncomfortably as he said, "My parents don't like talking about that with me to the point of avoiding that at all costs. I've learned through books, of course, but it's a very sore subject with my parents."

All of a sudden, they heard Mrs. Weasley yell from downstairs, "Breakfast is ready!"

Not wanting to waste any time, Ron and Marcus head downstairs to the kitchen where the rest of the Weasley family was already getting underway.

The first one to notice Marcus's presence was Percy, who got up from the table and said, "And you must be Marcus Williams. I'm Percy, it's very nice to meet you."

All of a sudden, Marcus saw two familiar boys bombard Percy's space and one of them said, "Why, if it isn't the strapping old man that's friends with ickle Ronnie!"

"Be careful with him, mate," said the other boy. "Grip his hand too hard, we might just have to send him off to St. Mungo's!"

Marcus, knowing how these two were, could only smirk as he said, "Fred and George Weasley, the biggest pair of troublemakers I've ever met."

"Ah, bless him, George, he complimented us!" said Fred.

"Truly, a fine gentleman!" said George.

"Oh, boys, come on, sit down and eat up, we've got a lot to do today," said Mrs. Weasley, who was setting down all sorts of breakfast foods, all of which looked delicious.

As they all sat at the table and started to eat, Marcus asked Mrs. Weasley, "What kind of things have to be done today?"

"Oh, dear, don't worry about that," said Mrs. Weasley. "You're here as our guest."

"But, I want to help," Marcus replied. "It doesn't feel right for everyone else to do work while I do nothing. It's the least I can do."

Just then, Marcus saw another familiar face: The same redhead from the platform last year who got excited when she saw Harry and Marcus for the first time.

As she said, "Mother, what's for breakfast?", she noticed Marcus's pure white hair and was suddenly very withdrawn and shy.

"Oh, Ginny, come now, sit down and eat some breakfast," said Mrs. Weasley.

As she did that, Marcus leaned over to Ron and whispered, "Was it something I did?"

"Naw, it's not that, mate," whispered Ron. "It's just that she really admires you and Harry. Well, more so Harry."

"So, this isn't normal?" whispered Marcus back.

"Bloody hell, no," Ron whispered back to him. "Ususally, she talks our ears off. It's a bit weird, let me tell you."

As they continued to eat breakfast, Marcus asked, "So, what needs to be done today, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Well, let's see," said Mrs. Weasley. "Laundry, the dishes, cleaning the bedrooms...ah, the garden needs to be de-gnomed, as well."

At this, Ron and the Weasley Twins groaned in protest.

"What, is it really that bad?" Marcus asked.

"Think of it this way, dear chap," said Fred, who closed his eyes and put a finger to his left temple to empthasize the point.

"If ever there was a species that could be labled as persistent little blighters, it'd be garden gnomes," George said.

"Well, is Percy going to help out?" Marcus asked.

"I'm afraid not, Marcus," Percy asked. "I've got some very important tasks to attend to."

"If you ask me, Marcus, I think it's because he can barely fit his big head through the doorways anymore," Fred said.

"Much less soil his prefect hands with housework," George chimed in.

Percy rounded on the twins and said, "Shut up!" He then said, "Thanks for breakfast, mother. I'll be going to my room now."

With that, he left the breakfast table, went up the stairs and out of sight.

"Well, anyway, maybe if we get done early, we might be able to play a little Quidditch," said Marcus.

"Blimey, I nearley forgot!" Ron exclaimed. "You've got to tell me about the U.S. Quidditch Camp!"

Marcus felt a smirk on his face as he said, "Oh, I don't know. It wasn't all that amazing."

"Wait, the same U.S. Quidditch Camp with the U.S. All-Stars?" said Fred, his interests very much piqued.

"Now, this is interesting," George added in. "Now you've got to spill it, old man."

So, Marcus launched into a very detailed retelling of the entire experience, from the introduction of the U.S. All Stars to the Quidditch Match between the campers.

By the time he was done, all Ron, Fred, and George could say was, "Wicked."

"So, let's get these chores out of the way now, shall we?" Marcus asked.

"My dear Fred, I do believe he has a point," George said.

"Aye, George, that he does," said Fred. "Perhaps, this one time, we shall do what we are told and do our work around the house."

As they made their way up the stairs, Marcus turned to Ron and said, "They've got a flair for the dramatics, they do."

"That's just how they are," said Ron. "Now, come on, Marcus, let's hurry up and get this done so that we can play Quidditch."

As Marcus and Ron rushed up the stairs to Ron's room, Mrs. Weasley said to herself, "I'll have to be sure to invite Marcus here every summer."

And so, in record time, the four boys got the laundry done, the rooms spotless, and the dishes sparkling clean. Everything was done...save for the garden.

As the four of them faced the garden, Ron said, "Oh, bloody hell."

Marcus, not bothering to ask, felt the sensation in his eyes and, suddenly, he knew what Ron was dreading: Marcus could see lots, if not tons, of squatty, little lights all around the garden.

As the sensation dissapated from his eyes, Marcus exasperated, "This isn't a de-gnoming, it's a freakin' battleground!"

"Well, the task isn't really all that hard," Ron said, grabbing a Garden Gnome out of nowhere. "You simply make them really dizzy before you chuck them over the fence as far as you can. As you saw, it's the sheer numbers that makes it daunting."

Unbeknownst to Marcus, a Garden Gnome was sneaking up behind him and gave him a rather nasty bite on the leg.

That was all it took to set off Marcus, whose eyes took on a golden color again, staring down at the unfortunate garden gnome that was foolish enough to bite his leg. After tossing the gnome a considerable distance, he looked to the Weasley boys and said, "Let's get them."

And, in no time at all, the Burrow's backyard could be seen as a shower of Garden Gnomes, all dizzy, clueless and away from the garden.

"And stay out!" yelled Marcus as he chucked the last garden gnome over the garden fence and into the open field.

"Are you okay, Marcus?" asked Ron.

"I am now," said Marcus, whose eyes returned to normal. "Well, we still have a good amount of time before dinner's ready. Where's the Quidditch Field?"

"Just over that way," said Ron, who pointed to an area over a hill.

"All right," said Marcus. "I'll get my Quaffle and broom. I'll see you guys out there shortly."

As Marcus walked back inside the house, Fred and George walked up to Ron from behind and Fred said, "Well, that ol' geezer certainly lost his marbles."

"It's always the old people that lose their cool, dear Fred," said George.

"Oh, that?" said Ron. "Naw, that was pretty tame for him."

Fred and George looked at each other in shock as they went to get their brooms.

* * *

"Well, this isn't half bad for a homemade Quidditch Field," said Marcus, who looked around the area in approval.

The Quidditch Field in question was made out of a deep depression in the hills and, Marcus reasoned, it was so that anyone wanting to play Quidditch could do so without getting spotted by Muggles. Rightly so, Marcus thought, due to the fact that he had more of his fair shares of awkward situations with Muggles due to self-Quidditch practice.

"Well, Charlie made this back when he was living in the house," Ron explained. "Got bored one day and, before we knew it, this happened."

"And where's Charlie now?" asked Marcus.

"Getting his buttocks roasted by dragons in Romania," said Fred, who stood on Marcus's left with a mischevious grin on his face.

"And our brother calls it a profession," said George. "I swear, Mum must've dropped him when he was little, 'cause he's a bit mad."

"Right," said Marcus. "Anyway, we got our teams?"

"Naturally, George and I are together," said Fred, that mischevious smile still there on his face. "So, that means you and Ron are together."

"Bloody Hell," said Ron. "We'll get creamed."

"No, we won't," said Marcus, who allowed a smirk to appear on his face. "You'll be Keeper. React, don't anticipate, and don't fall for any of their antics. Just get the Quaffle in my hands and we'll be fine."

Marcus saw the look of confidence on Ron's face as he said, "All right, mate. Let's do this."

As Ron took his position in front of the posts, Marcus tossed his Quaffle to Fred and said, "Here, we'll even let you have the Quaffle first."

"Feeling confident, are we?" asked Fred.

"Merciful," Marcus merely stated as he mounted his broom and flew near Ron.

"All right, old geezer, you asked for it!" said George as both of them started flying towards them.

"Here they come, Marcus!" exclaimed Ron.

Marcus could only look at the twins and deadpanned, "Real threatening." He then smirked and said, "Watch this, Ron!"

Marcus took a beeline at Fred and, before either twin realized it, he had the Quaffle under his left arm and, in another second, casually threw the Quaffle in the center hoop.

"What was that about asking for it?" asked Marcus. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you over my scoring the goal!"

Marcus then saw rare expressions on the twin's faces as Fred said, "I don't think we can joke around with this one, George."

"You know, Fred, I think you're absolutely right," said George. "Play Keeper, I've got this one."

As Marcus flew next to Ron, Ron asked, "Bloody hell, Marcus. You're getting them to play serious?!"

"It may look like that," Marcus told him. "But, by the time we're done, we'll make them look like the clowns they really are."

* * *

 **45 minutes later...**

As the four boys touched the ground, Ron said, "Marcus and I, 250! Red-headed clowns, zip!"

Marcus said, "I told you we'd make them look like clowns."

"Now, hold on a minute there!" Fred said.

"Marcus did all the work!" George said in protest. "Ron didn't do anything!"

"He blocked all of your ten attempts on scoring," Marcus stated in response. "I wouldn't say that he didn't do anything."

"I don't get it, George," said Fred.

"We switched being Chasers-" stated George.

"We even tried our best tricks-" stated Fred.

"But still, we couldn't even-" stated George.

"Fool this old geezer right here!" stated the twins in unison.

"That's because he's the best Chaser I've ever seen!" Ron exclaimed. "Marcus, why don't you try out for the Quidditch Team this year? I know you'd be a shoo-in!"

Marcus' smirk faded as he said, "Because the team is already solid. I'd only be a reserve until around fourth year, and to be honest, I don't like not being able to play. I'll keep honing my skills until a position opens up."

Just then, they heard a familiar voice yell out, "Boys! Come on in! It's time for dinner!"

As they approached the house, Marcus saw Ginny waiting for them.

"Hello, Ginny," Marcus said to her.

"Um, hello, Marcus," said Ginny. "Um, I saw you guys play Quidditch. You're really good, Marcus."

"Thank you, Ginny," said Marcus.

"Will you be playing on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team this year?" asked Ginny.

"No, not this year," said Marcus.

As they were enjoying their dinner, not many words were said about Quidditch, mainly because they knew the fact that Marcus wouldn't be able to play for the House this year was eating away at him, despite not showing it.

After dinner, as they were cleaning up and getting ready for bed, Ron turned to Marcus and asked, "Hey, Marcus, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, go ahead," said Marcus.

"Have you heard from Harry at all this summer?" Ron asked.

Marcus looked at him and said, "No, I haven't. Wait, you haven't heard from him either?"

"No, I haven't," said Ron.

"Oh, I'm so relieved that I'm not the only one," said Marcus. "But, you know what this means, right?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "Wait, what does this mean?"

Marcus face-palmed himself before saying, "Harry's mail is getting intercepted."

Ron's eyes grew big as he asked, "How?!"

"That...I don't know," said Marcus. "But, what I do know is what we need to do something."

"Like what?" Ron asked.

"Bust him out of there," Marcus simply stated.

"Are you mad?!" said Ron. "Do you know how many laws we would be breaking?!"

"I'm aware of the consequences, Ron," Marcus stated. "Right now, I don't even have a way of getting there, much less get him out of there."

"Well," said Ron, a little hesitation in his voice. "There is one way we could."

"What?!" said Marcus. "How?!"

"Well, Dad's got this muggle object called a 'car' in the backyard," Ron explained. "He's fascinated with stuff like that. Anyway, he's enchanted the car to fly, only Mum doesn't know about it."

The wheels in his head turning, Marcus said, "So, if I were to ask your Dad about the car, he would gladly explain how it worked to me?"

"Without a doubt, mate," stated Ron.

"Well, at least we'll have a way of getting there, should it come down to it," said Marcus. "First, we'll try to reach Harry at least one more time. I'll send a letter with Archie and you'll send one with Errol. If they come back without a letter, we'll know to start preparing."

"Right," said Ron.

"In the meantime, though, let's get some sleep," said Marcus.

However, before too long, Marcus found himself at the top of Azkaban, where the Dark Prince was walking around the small area, as if he was waiting on something.

All of a sudden, he placed his left finger to his right shoulder and said, "Report, servant."

He was silent for a few seconds before saying, "So, the item in question was successfully retrieved. I expected nothing less from one of my servants."

All of a sudden, the Dark Prince snapped, "I don't care about your convenience, servant! I give you an order, you are to do it, plain and simple. You know what would happen otherwise."

Marcus saw an evil smirk befall his face as he continued, "Now, as I mentioned before, you are to merely guard it and nothing more. Although, I don't think an experiment here or there will be remiss. That'll be all for now, servant. I'll let you know when I have need of you next."

As he released his finger from his shoulder, the Dark Prince chuckled before saying, "That forked-tongued fool was never one to follow an order to the letter. He's predictable and self-centered, so in that aspect, everything is working perfectly."

All Marcus could hear is the chuckling in the dark room of the Dark Prince's prison.

* * *

Marcus shot up in fright, only to find himself still being in Ron's room. After catching his breath, he looked to his watch to see that it was four in the morning.

"Well, time for the morning workout," Marcus simply said as he got himself dressed, making sure not to wake up Ron as he walked out the bedroom, down the stairs, out the house, and starting doing his morning workout.

By the time he returned to the Burrow, he found Ron standing at the entrance. As soon as Marcus was close enough, Ron said, "Where've you been, you git?!"

Marcus winced as he said, "I'm really sorry, Ron. But, I usually start my morning workouts early and you were fast asleep. I didn't want you to worry."

"Well, next time, leave a note or something!" Ron exclaimed. "I was really worried something happened."

"Well, something did happen last night," Marcus stated.

"What?" asked a stupefied Ron.

"I had another Dark Prince nightmare," Marcus stated.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I saw the Dark Prince planning something in his prison room," Marcus said. "And, by the sounds of it, everything is going according to plan."

"That's just bizarre, mate," Ron said. "What exactly is his plan?"

"Haven't the foggiest," Marcus replied. "And that's the most irritating part."

"Well, try to focus on what we need to do today," Ron stated.

"Starting with breakfast," Marcus stated with a smirk.

As the weeks flew by at the Burrow, Marcus was really enjoying himself. At first, he found the Burrow to be a rather odd establishment. Smaller houses kept together by magic, a clock that tells the condition of the family instead of the time, and everything was used amongst other things. It was quite the difference for a boy who's always been able to enjoy a few of the finer things in life.

But, for Marcus, it had a bit of charm to it, like it could be anybody's home away from home. And then there was the open countryside, which Marcus really enjoyed, as well. Perfect for his workouts as well as catching glimpses of nature's beauty. And then there was the Weasleys.

Mr. Weasley is, as Ron would put it, a Muggle fanatic. Anything that didn't involve magic was nothing short of a wonder for him. From this standpoint, Marcus could understand to some degree. He, too, always thought it was a miracle that normal people could do half the things they're capable of without having an ounce of magic. And Mr. Weasley was more than eager to share his knowledge of Muggle apparatuses, including and especially the car, though by the time he was done, Marcus was left with a considerably aching head.

Mrs. Weasley, to Marcus, was quite the busybody as well as a remarkable mother. After all, anyone who could put up with the Twins for long periods of time was quite the accomplishment in and of itself. Marcus really marveled her amazing cooking skills and, wanting to add on to his own cooking skills, never missed out on an opportunity to learn from her by helping her out in the kitchen. He even cooked dinner by himself one evening and was relieved that everyone enjoyed the food he made, to which he thanked Mrs. Weasley immensly.

And then there was Percy.

Marcus couldn't help but feel that, no matter what Percy did, he always rubbed everyone off the wrong way, and it was very clear to him that he was obsessed with being an authority figure and a model person of society. Luckily, the only times he ever came out of his room were for meals, so he didn't see too much of him, though it was awfully odd that one person could shut themselves up in a room for the majority of the day.

Marcus could find no words to truly described the Weasley Twins other than pranksters, troublemakers, and harbingers of chaos. More than once he found himself on the receiving end of their pranks. Of course, Marcus responded back with a few of his own, to which would leave Fred and George quite confused as to how he pulled it off. And, of course, they found out very quickly that betting with Marcus was not the smartest of choices...not unless they wanted to lose Galleons by the handful. By Marcus's second week at the Burrow, Fred and George found themselves unusually short of their own money, by which time they wised up and stopped betting against him.

Ron was, of course, estatic at having one of his best friends staying at his house. To Marcus, it was like having a breath of fresh air, being able to freely talk about the Wizarding World without having to relay a bunch of information, something that Harry or Hermione wouldn't be able to do.

It took a little while, but eventually, Ginny Weasley was able to open up to Marcus, which was quite the relief, considering how awkward it was for him to have her act so shy around him. And what Ron said about her was almost completely accurate, though Marcus didn't mind a whole lot. Sure, she asked a lot of questions about him and Harry, but he also found out that she was stubborn in a good way, didn't put up with a lot of nonsense, and had a good head on her shoulders. Marcus had a feeling that she would be a good match for Harry.

Which was the one thing that was weighing heavier and heavier on his mind: His lack of contact with Harry. Sure enough, Archie and Errol came back to the Burrow without returning letters and Marcus confirmed one thing: Harry's mail was getting intercepted by an outside source, and that irritated him to no end.

He wasn't the only one, however. Ron started to show irritation that they weren't getting in contact with Harry and, by the time it reached a week before Harry's birthday, Ron had enough.

"Marcus!" Ron said as they were getting ready for bed.

"What is it, Ron?" Marcus asked.

"We need to come up with our rescue plan," Ron stated.

"I was thinking the exact same thing," Marcus said.

The two of them sat on the bedroom floor as Marcus said, "Now, the plan is simple, but hazardous: Fly to #4 Privet Drive in Surrey, get Harry and his stuff, get it all in the car, and fly back to the Burrow before anyone notices we've been missing."

"Blimey," said Ron. "Some plan."

"Now, he lives on the second floor and his window is at the front of the house," Marcus stated. "That'll be our entry point. From there, it'll get tricky."

"How'd you reckon?" Ron asked.

"His stuff will likely be locked up downstairs, in the cupboard where he used to sleep," Marcus stated. "That's going to be our main problem."

"How so?" Ron asked.

"I don't know how to pick locks," stated Marcus.

"Oh, bloody hell," Ron said. "I don't know how either."

"Do my ears decieve me, Fred?" asked a voice that made Marcus and Ron jump in the air.

Marcus looked at the bedroom door to find Fred and George with grins so mischevious that it made Marcus's hairs stand on end.

"I don't think so, George," said Fred. "They're planning on doing naughty things."

"And what's it to you, you nosy gits?!" said Ron as he took a swipe at George.

"Now, hold on there, ickle Ronnie," said George, who simply dodged to the side.

"You can't be planning on something like this," said Fred.

"Without including us in your plans," said George with a grin on his face.

"And do the two of you know how to pick locks?" asked Marcus.

"Ah, George, how little he knows of us," said Fred, putting his right arm around George.

"Well, of course we know how to pick locks, old man," said George.

Marcus just sighed before saying, "I hate to say this, Ron, but we'll need them if we plan on wanting this to succeed."

"All right, fine," said Ron in utter defeat.

"About time you both started thinking with your heads," said Fred as him and George took a seat opposite Ron and Marcus.

"So, what are dealing with?" asked George.

"A rescue plan involving flying to Surrey, getting Harry and his belongings, and flying back to the Burrow without getting spotted or noticed that we're gone."

"That's an awfully risky plan there, old geezer," said Fred.

"Right up our alley then, Fred," said George with a smile. "Now, what'll we need?"

"Things to pick locks with, enough space to put Harry's belongings in the trunk, and hope that it'll be a cloudy night."

"Well, Dad's put a charm on the trunk to make it carry more than it normally would, so no worries there," said Ron.

"And we'll be sure to get our lock-picking supplies ready, old chap," said George.

"So, with everything settled, gentleman in crime, Operation Lightning Bolt will commence July 31st at 12:30 in the morning," announced Marcus.

"Sweet," said Fred and George as they got up and left Ron's room.

"What have we gotten ourselves into, mate?" asked Ron.

"One heck of a situation, that's for sure," said Marcus as the lights were turned off and the boys went to sleep.

* * *

Not all things in life go according to plan, as Marcus would eventually learn.

Such a thing happened when, twelve hours before initiating Operation Lightning Bolt, Marcus received a letter from his father and it wasn't filled with good news.

"Oh, no," said Marcus out loud in Ron's room. "This can't be happening!"

"What, what's going on?" asked Ron as he tried to look at the letter over Marcus's shoulder.

"Harry got in trouble for performing the Hover Charm in the presence of Muggles!" exclaimed Marcus.

"But how can that be?!" asked Ron. "Harry knows we're not supposed to use magic outside of Hogwarts!"

"Exactly what I was thinking!" stated Marcus as he started to pace back and forth. "But, this definitely changes things. I can't imagine his Muggle guardians being too happy about this. Got to stay ahead of them...ah, got it! Ron, is there something to hook objects with in your Dad's Muggle shed?"

"I'm sure there is," Ron said. "Let me try to find something!"

"All right, then," said Marcus. "Once you do that, go to Fred and George's room. We've got to readjust to this."

As Ron entered Fred and George's room, Marcus said, "Good, right on time."

"What's going on, gramps?" asked Fred.

Marcus explained the whole situation to the twins.

"Now, there's some mischevious activity there," Fred said.

"And not the kind we cause, either," said George.

"I'd say be ready for anything tonight, guys," said Marcus. "We wait an hour after everyone goes to bed and then Operation Lightning Bolt will be underway."

Without anything further to tell them, Ron and Marcus left their room.

* * *

 **12:00 am, July 31st**

"All right, this is it," whispered Marcus, who looked up at the mostly cloudy sky. "Weather's in our favor, caught a bit of luck there. Ron, where are Fred and George?"

"They should be here any minute," Ron whispered back.

Right on cue, a familiar voice whispered, "Sorry about that, old geezer. Stair were a bit creekier than usual."

"You have your supplies, boys?" whispered Marcus.

Fred shined a flashlight on an assortment of lock-picking devices as he whispered, "Got 'em right here, of course."

"Can't leave home without it," whispered George.

"All right, let's run through the list, just to be sure," whispered Marcus. "Full tank of gas?"

"Check," whispered Ron.

"Grappling Hook?" whispered Marcus.

"Sitting in the back seat," whispered Fred.

"Spacious trunk?" whispered Marcus.

"Could fit Percy's big head, no problem," whispered George.

"Good," whispered Marcus. He took a big sigh as he whispered, "Let's get this car in neutral and push it a good distance away from the house."

As they were pushing the car, Ron said, "I sure hope no one notices that we've left the house."

"Oh, ickle Ronnie, we're about to break some Wizarding Laws, and that's what you're concerned with?" asked Fred.

"Certainly got his priorities straight, he does," said George.

"Shut up," said Ron.

"All right, this should be good enough," said Marcus when he could barely see the outline of the Burrow. "Everyone, into the car. Ron, you're driving."

Once everyone got settled in, Marcus stated, "Boys, initiate Operation Lightning Bolt!"

Ron fired up the car, put it in forward, and took off into the night and towards Harry Potter.


	4. (04) Operation Lightning Bolt

Chapter 4: Operation Lightning Bolt

As the four of them were cruising through the clouds, Ron turned his head to the backseat and said, "Hey, Marcus, spotted Harry yet?"

Marcus, who was using his enhanced vision, said, "No, not yet. But, among the mass of Muggles he's surrounded by, he should stick out like a sore thumb."

"Have the both of you gone mad?" asked Fred.

"Marcus obviously can't see Harry from all the way up here!" exclaimed George.

"Not physically, no," stated Marcus. "However, thanks to my enhanced vision, I'm able to distinguish the energy flow between Muggles and Magic Folk. Granted, I've only been to do that for a little while now, but it really helps out in times like these."

"Bloody hell- are you messing with us, old timer?!" asked Fred.

Marcus looked at the twins with irises of gold and said, "Does it look like I'm joking around?"

Fred and George started at Marcus's eyes and said, "Wicked."

Marcus took another look down and said, "Ah, there he is!"

Ron saw where Marcus was pointed and started his descent.

"Everyone knows the plan, right?" asked Marcus.

"Of course," said Ron. "Let's get him out of there!"

As they stopped a few feet away from Harry's window, they were greeted by a flabbergasting Harry saying, "Ron, Marcus! How did you guys- What the - ?"

He looked at the ground and his jaw dropped, perhaps at the realization of the current situation. Fred and George grinning from the front seats, George said, "All right there, Harry?"

"What's been going on?" asked Ron. "Why haven't you been answering our letters? We've asked you to stay about twelve times, and then Marcus's Dad sent him a letter saying you'd got an official warning for using magic in front of Muggles-"

"It wasn't me," Harry stated. "And how did he know?"

"My dad works for the ministry, as I told you before, Harry," Marcus stated.

"But, that's besides the point," Ron told them. "Harry, you _know_ we're not supposed to do spells outside school -"

"You should talk," said Harry, gesturing to the floating car.

"Oh, this doesn't count," Marcus told him. "We're only borrowing this."

"It's Dad's, _we_ didn't enchant it," Ron explained. "But doing magic in front of those Muggles you live with -"

"I told you, I didn't -" Harry started to exasperate, but then took a deep breath and said, "Look, it'll take too long to explain now. Can you tell them at Hogwarts that the Dursleys have locked me up and won't let me come back, and obviously I can't magic myself out, becuase the Ministry'll think that's the second spell I've done in three days, so -"

"Stop talking nonsense, Harry," Marcus said. "We're getting you out of there."

"Huh?" said Harry.

"We've come to take you home with us," Ron told him.

"How?" asked Harry. "You two can't magic me out either."

"We don't need to," said Marcus with a smirk.

"You forget who we've got with us," said Ron, jerking his head toward the front seat and grinning.

"Tie that around the bars," said Fred, throwing the end of a rope to Harry.

"If the Dursleys wake up, I'm dead," said Harry as he tied the rope tightly around a bar and Fred revved up the car.

"Don't worry, Harry," Marcus told him. "Now, stand back." He then turned his attention to Fred and said, "Fred, step on it."

Fred revved up the car continuously until, quite suddenly, they heard a crunching noise and Marcus looked to find that the bars were pulled cleanly away from the window.

"All right!" Marcus exclaimed. "Ron, get those bars in the back seat. Fred, put the car in reverse and get as close as you can to the window."

Once they got the car close enough to the window, Ron stuck his hand out and said, "All right, Harry, get in."

"But all my Hogwarts stuff - my wand - my broomstick -" said Harry.

"Where is it?" asked Marcus.

"Locked in the cupboard under the stairs, and I can't get out of this room," said Harry.

Marcus emitted a low growl and said, "I had a feeling this would happen. I hate these Muggles." He turned to Fred and George and said, "All right, twins, you're up."

"No problem, old geezer," said George front the front passenger seat. "Out of the way, Harry."

As Fred and George climbed catlike through the window into Harry's room, Marcus turned to Ron and said, "Has any of the surrounding Muggles notice us yet?"

"Not a one, mate," said Ron.

Marcus then heard Harry say from the window, "Fred and George just went downstairs. I need help with my stuff."

"That's my cue," Marcus said. "Ron, keep the car steady for us."

Harry and Marcus then dashed around his room, collecting Harry's things and passing them out of the window to Ron, Then, they went to help Fred and George heave his trunk up the stairs. Marcus thought he heard Harry's uncle cough on the way, but he wasn't too sure.

When they reached the landing and started carrying the trunk through, Marcus kept getting a bad feeling that Harry's Uncle was going to wake up, but once again shook it off.

"A bit more," panted Fred, who was pulling from inside the car. "One good push-"

Marcus, Harry, and George threw their shoulders against the trunk and it slid out of the window into the back seat of the car.

"Okay, guys, let's go," George whispered.

George went into the car first, followed by Marcus, who was breathing a lot easier now that they were about to leave.

But, as Harry climbed onto the windowsill, there came a sudden loud screech from behind him, followed immediately by the thunderous voice of Harry's Uncle.

"THAT RUDDY OWL!"

Harry turned to Marcus with wide eyes and said, "I've forgotten Hedwig!"

"Harry, you dolt!" Marcus yelled. "Hurry up and get her!"

Harry tore back into his room as Marcus saw the landing light clicked on.

"Fred, slam the gas pedal to the floor on my command!" Marcus told Fred.

Marcus then turned his attention to the window as he saw Harry pass Hedwig on to Ron. He saw Harry getting onto the chest of drawers when Marcus heard a hammering on the unlocked door, followed by a thundering crash.

For a split second, Harry's Uncle stood framed in the doorway. Then, he let out a bellow like an angry bull and dived at Harry, grabbing him by the ankle.

"Oh, no you don't, you great prune!" yelled Marcus, who grabbed Harry's arms and pulled as hard as he could.

"Petunia!" roared Harry's Uncle. "He's getting away! HE'S GETTING AWAY!"

Marcus, feeling the sensation come to his eyes, said angrily, "Yeah, away from you!" With a roar and a mighty pull, Marcus yanked Harry into the car.

As Harry closed the door, Marcus turned to Fred and yelled, "Now!"

Marcus felt the car shooting straight towards the sky, throughouly relived that they managed to get Harry out of there. So was Harry, as Marcus saw him rolling down the window, sticking his head out the window, and yelling, "See you next summer!"

As the Weasleys roared with laughter, Harry settling back in his seat with his grinning going from ear to ear, Marcus allowed himself to smirk at the thought of one of his best friends being away from those wretched fools of Muggles.

"Let Hedwig out," Harry told Ron. "She can fly behind us. She hasn't had a chance to stretch her wings for ages.

George handed the hairpin to Ron and, a moment later, Hedwig soared joyfully out of the window to glide alongside them like a ghost.

"Well, old geezer, I've gotta hand it to ya," said George. "Operation Lightning Bolt was a complete success!"

"Not yet, it hasn't," Marcus told him. "We've still got to get back to the Burrow and back into our rooms without getting noticed.

"Operation Lightning Bolt?" asked Harry.

Marcus turned to Harry and said, "That's the name I gave our mission of rescuing you."

"Marcus here pretty much thought of everything," Ron told Harry. "The bars on your window, your stuff getting locked up, everything."

"With Muggles like Harry's guardians, it's not difficult to figure them out," Marcus said. "Just think about the worst extremes possible, and that's what they were most likely going to do."

"Brilliant!" said Harry.

"It was nothing," Marcus said.

"Speaking of nothing," Ron said as he turned towards Harry, "What's the story, Harry? What's been happening?"

Marcus listened to Harry's every word: About Dobby, the house-elf, the warning he'd given Harry and fiasco of the violet pudding. There was a long, shocked silence when Harry finished.

"Very fishy," said Fred finally.

"Definitely dodgy," agreed George. "So, he wouldn't even tell you who's supposed to be plotting all this stuff?"

"I don't think he could," said Harry. "I told you guys, every time he got close letting something slip, he started banging his head against the wall."

As Fred, George, and Marcus were all looking at one another, Harry said, "What, you think he was lying to me?"

"Well, Harry, let's put it this way," Marcus said. "House-elves have got powerful magic of their own, but they can't usually use it without their master's permission."

"I reckon old Dobby was sent to stop you coming back to Hogwarts," said Fred. "Someone's idea of a joke. Can you think of anyone at school with a grudge against you?"

"Yes," said Harry, Ron, and Marcus together, instantly.

"Draco Malfoy," Harry explained. "He hates me."

"Draco Malfoy?" said George, turning around. "Not Lucius Malfoy's son?"

"Must be, it's not a very common name, is it?" said Harry. "Why?"

"I've heard Dad talking about him," said George. "He was a big supporter of You-Know-Who."

"And when You-Know-Who disappeared," said Fred, craning around to look at Harry, "Lucius Malfoy came back saying he'd never meant any of it. Load of dung - Dad reckons he was right in You-Know-Who's inner circle."

"I don't know whether the Malfoys own a house elf..." said Harry.

"Well, whoever owns him will be an old Wizarding family, and they'll be rich, said Fred.

"I didn't see any house-elf when I went to Malfoy's manor earlier this summer," said Marcus. "Then again, I wasn't there that long."

"And just what the bloody hell were you doing at the Malfoy's?!" said Ron.

"Mr. Malfoy invited my whole family out to their manor for a dinner together," Marcus explained. "I told my Dad flat out that I didn't want to go. However, very reluctantly, we went. I figure good ol' Lucius was trying to butter up my parents so that they could get them on his side."

"Did anything happen?" asked Harry.

"Well, the food was good, but the atmosphere was very tense," said Marcus. "Luckily, I broke away from it for a little bit to use the bathroom. However, Draco thought it would be a good idea to corner me in the bathroom and try to beat me up."

"What did you do, old timer?" asked Fred.

"Well, I noticed that the bathtub was full of black liquid, so when Malfoy went to punch me, I dodged it, grabbed his head from behind and plunged it in the liquid," Marcus told them. "When his head came up, his hair was completely jet black!"

Fred, George, and Ron grinned as Harry asked, "How did that happen?"

"Well, turns out that the black liquid in the bathtub was Mrs. Malfoy's ultra-strength black hair dye she uses for her hair," Marcus said with a smirk on his face. "Draco was running to his parents, crying his eyes out because I ruined his hair."

Harry and the Weasleys roared with laughter as Ron said, "Serves the little git right!"

"I wish you took a picture, mate!" George told him.

"I wish I did, too," said Marcus. "Well, regardless, it's been an interesting summer so far."

"I, for one, am glad we came to get you, Harry," Ron told Harry. "Marcus and I were getting really worried when you didn't answer any of our letters. We thought it was Errol's fault at first -"

"Who's Errol?" asked a confused Harry.

"Our owl. He's ancient. It wouldn't be the first time he'd collapsed on a delivery. So then I tried to borrow Hermes -"

" _Who?"_

"The owl Mum and Dad bought Percy when he was made prefect," said Fred from the front.

"But Percy wouldn't lend him to Ron, the stupid git," Marcus told Harry. "Said he needed him."

"Percy's been acting very oddly this summer," said George, frowning. "And he _has_ been sending a lot of letters and spending a load of time shut up in his room... I mean, there's only so many times you can polish a prefect badge... You're driving too far west, Fred," he added, pointing at a compass on the dashboard. Fred twiddled the steering wheel.

"So, does your dad know you've got the car, Ron?" Harry asked him.

"Er, no," Ron responded. "He had to work tonight. Hopefully we'll be able to get it back in the garage without Mum noticing we flew it."

"What does your dad do at the Ministry of Magic, anyway?"

"He works in the most boring department," said Ron. "The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

"My dad doesn't think it's a boring department," said Marcus. "He enjoyed the few times he collaborated with the department on missions."

"That's because your dad's the head of the Auror department," Ron told Marcus. "He probably thinks it's a nice breath of fresh air compared with the usual workload."

"Hm, true enough," said Marcus.

"Excuse me, but _what_ exactly is the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office about?" asked a very confused Harry.

"Well, it's all to do with bewitching things that are Muggle-made, you know, in case they end up back in a Muggle shop or house. Like, last year, some old witch died and her tea set was sold to an antiques shop. This Muggle woman bought it, took it home, and tried to serve her friends tea in it. It was a nightmare - Dad was working overtime for weeks."

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"The teapot went beserk and squirted boiling tea all over the place and one man ended up in the hospital with the sugar tongs clamped to his nose. Dad was going frantic - it's only him and an old warlock called Perkins in the office - and they had to do Memory Charms and all sorts of stuff to cover it up -"

"But your dad - this car -" Harry started to say.

Fred laughed. "Yeah, Dad's crazy about everything to do with Muggles; our shed's full of Muggle stuff. He takes it apart, puts spells on it, and puts it back together again. If he raided _our_ house, he'd have to put himself under arrest. It drives Mum mad."

"In his defense, though," said Marcus. "I can understand his fascination with Muggle objects. Considering how many problems we deal with as magic users, the fact that Muggles overcome theirs without it is a marvel by itself."

"Ah, here we go: the main road," said George, peering down through the windshield. "We'll be there in ten minutes... Just as well, it's getting light..."

As Marcus saw the faint, pinkish glow stretch across the eastern horizon, Marcus sighed and said, "Finally, this whole thing is almost done. I'm, quite frankly, looking forward to getting sleep."

Ron yawned and said, "Right you are, mate. Nothing like getting a good sleep after something like this."

George looked at Harry and said, "We're a litte way outside the village. Ottery St. Catchpole."

Marcus could feel the car getting lower and lower until Fred said, "Touchdown!" as they landed with a slight bump, next to a tumbledown garage in a small yard, and Marcus saw Harry's face as he looked at Ron's house, full of delight and wonder.

"It's not much," said Ron.

"It's _wonderful_ ," said Harry happily, causing Marcus to give a little smirk.

As they got out of the car, Marcus said, "Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly and wait for Mrs. Weasley to call us down for breakfast. When that happens, Ron'll come bounding downstairs going, 'Mum, look who turned up in the night!' and, hopefully, she'll be so pleased to see Harry that no one will ask how Harry actually got here to the Burrow in the first place."

"Right," said Ron. "Come on, Harry, I sleep at the - at the top -"

Marcus sensed the dread in Ron's voice and, upon seeing the nasty green color Ron's face was sporting, whipped around and immediately said, "Oh, crap."

The other three wheeled around to find Mrs. Weasley marching across the yard, scattering the chickens in all directions. It was remarkable to Marcus that, for a kind-faced woman of short stature, she resembled a saber-toothed tiger getting ready to attack.

" _Ah_ ", said Fred.

"Oh, dear," said George.

 _"So much for sneaking back into the house unnoticed,"_ thought Marcus, who was a little afraid of what was going to happen, especially when she halted in front of them, hands on hips, staring at one guilty face after another. Marcus noticed her wand sticking out of the pocket on the flowered apron she was wearing and prayed that she wasn't about to use it on them.

 _"So,"_ she said.

"Morning, Mum," said George, in what he clearly thought was a jaunty, winning voice.

"Have you any idea how worried I've been?" said Mrs. Weasley in a whisper so deadly that it sent a shiver up Marcus's spine.

"Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to -"

As Mrs. Weasley's rage exploded at them, Marcus noticed her sons shrinking in height by half due to cowering in fear.

 _"Beds empty! No note! Car gone - could have crashed - out of my mind with worry - did you care? - never, as long as I've lived - you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy -"_

"Perfect Percy," muttered Fred.

Marcus facepalmed himself as Mrs. Weasley roared, "YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!" as she prodded a finger in Fred's chest. "You could have _died,_ you could have been _seen,_ you could have lost your father his _job -_ "

As Mrs. Weasley continued on her rant, Marcus felt more gulity by the minute. He thought he was doing what was right, but he didn't bother to think about the reprecussions of his actions. They got Harry out of there, but at what cost?

Finally, Marcus saw Mrs. Weasley turn to Harry and said, "I'm very pleased to see you, Harry, dear." She then turned to Marcus and said, "I'm sorry they dragged you into this whole mess, Marcus. Come now, you two, come in and have some breakfast."

Marcus wanted to speak up and tell her what really happened, but before he could, Mrs. Weasley turned around and went into the house. He looked to Ron, who just nodded his head in encouragement. He sighed in defeat and walked in the house.

As he sat down at the table, Mrs. Weasley was clattering around, cooking breakfast rather haphazardly, throwing occassional dirty looks at her sons, making Marcus feel even more guilty than before. Every so often, he would hear Mrs. Weasley mutter things like, "don't know _what_ you were thinking of," and " _never_ would have believed it."

"I don't blame _you,_ dear," she assured Harry, tipping eight or nine sausages onto his plate. "Arthur and I have been worried about you, too. Just last night we were saying we'd come and get you ourselves if you hadn't written back to Ron by Friday. But really," she said as she added three eggs to Harry's plate, "flying an illegal car halfway across the country - anyone could have seen you - and involving poor Marcus in your schemes, as well."

As she flicked her wand casually at the dishes in the sink, causing them to clean themselves, Fred retorted, "It was _cloudy_ , Mum!" said Fred.

"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!" Mrs. Weasley snapped.

"They were starving him, Mum!" said George.

"And you, as well!" Mrs. Weasley said, but with a slighly softer expression as she started cutting Harry's bread and buttering them for him.

Marcus's conscious was weighing on him for each minute he kept quiet, but was momentarily distracted by Ginny's entrance into the kitchen who, upon seeing Harry, gave a small squeal and ran out in a hurry.

 _"And now we're back to having shy Ginny around,"_ thought Marcus. _"Well, that's just great."_

"Ginny," said Ron in an undertone to Harry. "My sister. She's been talking about you all summer."

"Yeah, she'll be wanting your autograph, Harry," said Fred with a grin, but after catching his mother's evil eye, he bent down to his plate without another word. In fact, nothing more was said between them until all five plates were clean, which didn't take long at all.

" _Blimey,_ I'm tired," yawned Fred, setting down his knife and fork at last. "I think I'll go to bed and -"

"You will not," snapped Mrs. Weasley. "It's your own fault you've been up all night. You're going to de-gnome the garden for me; they're getting completely out of hand again -"

"Oh, Mum-" whined George.

"And you two," she said, glaring at Ron and George. She looked at Harry and Marcus and said, "You two can go up to bed, dears. You didn't ask them to fly that wretched car -"

Immediately, Harry said, "I'll help Ron. I've never seen a de-gnoming -"

"That's very sweet of you dear, but it's dull work," said Mrs. Weasley. "Now, let's see what Lockhart's got to say on the subject -"

And, sure enough, Marcus saw Mrs. Weasley pull a heavy book from the stack she had on the mantlepiece. He heard George groan and state, "Mum, we know how to de-gnome a garden -"

George's words fell on deaf ears as Mrs. Weasley had a rather peculiar look on her face as she said, "Oh, he is marvelous. He knows his household pests, all right, it's a wonderful book..."

Feeling a bit curious, Marcus looked at the cover of the book Mrs. Weasley was looking at and saw the picture of Gilderoy Lockhart. Immediately, Marcus rolled his eyes.

 _"If that man actually knows anything about household pests, I'd be completely surprised,"_ he thought.

Fred turned to Harry and Marcus and whispered, "Mum _fancies_ him."

"Don't be so ridiculous, Fred," said Mrs. Weasley, her cheeks rather pink. "All right, if you think you know better than Lockhart, you can go and get on with it, and woe betide you if there's a single gnome in that garden when I come out to inspect it."

Marcus looked at the other boys and said, "You guys go ahead. I'll be out there in a little bit."

As he saw the Weasley boys trudging out the door, Harry following close behind them, Marcus turned to Mrs. Weasley and said, "Um, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Yes, what is it, Marcus?" she asked.

Marcus took a deep breath. He knew that there would be no beating around the bush, so he would just have to straight-shoot it. "About last night's events, Fred, George, and Ron didn't come up with the plan to fly the car to Harry's house...I did."

He didn't bother looking at her face as he continued, "Mr. Weasley explained how the car worked to me a few weeks back and I roped your sons into helping me get Harry out of there using the car. I didn't think of the consequences of my actions and I caused you to worry so much, and after all you've done for me during my time here, I just wanted to say that I'm extermely sorry, that I feel ashamed and I take full responsibility."

It was silent for a minute before he heard Mrs. Weasley say, "I knew there was something off about this whole thing. My sons couldn't think up of something this elaborate on their own."

He looked at Mrs. Weasley as she continued, "While I'm not condoning your actions, I am glad that you're taking responsibility in the matter. This doesn't excuse my sons, who should have known better. You know that I'll have to write to your parents about this, Marcus?"

"I expected that to happen, yes," Marcus stated.

Mrs. Weasley just sighed and said, "Try not to worry about it, dear. What's done is done and everything's all right now. You should go up to Ron's room and try to get some sleep."

"Actually, Mrs. Weasley," Marcus said as he felt the sensation come to his eyes, looking at the door to the backyard. "I have some gnomes to kick out of the garden."

Feeling much better than before, Marcus walked out of the kitchen and into the garden with a longing to knock some gnomes into next week.

* * *

As Marcus chucked the last of the gnomes out of the garden, Ron turned to Harry and said, "They'll be back," said Ron as they watched the gnomes disappear into the hedge on the other side of the field. "They love it here...Dad's too soft with them; he thinks they're funny..."

"I think they're a bloody nuisance and they deserve to be squashed!" Marcus exclaimed as he pounded on the fence.

Before Marcus could say anything more, all of them heard the front door slammed.

"He's back!" said George. "Dad's home!"

They hurried through the garden and back into the house to find Mr. Weasley, slumped in a kitchen chair with his glasses off and his eyes closed. Based on the state of his clothes, Marcus surmised that his night was just as busy as theirs.

As they took their seats around him, Mr. Weasley sighed and mumbled, "What a night. Nine raids. Nine! And old Mundungus Fletcher tried to put a hex on me when I had my back turned..."

As Mr. Weasley took a long gulp to tea, Fred asked with eagerness, "Find anything, Dad?"

"All I got were a few shrinking door keys and a biting kettle," he yawned. "There was some pretty nasty stuff that wasn't my department, though. Mortlake was taken away for questioning about some extremely odd ferrets, but that's the Committee on Experimental Charms, thank goodness..."

"Why would anyone bother making door keys shrink?" said George.

"Just Muggle-baiting," sighed Mr. Weasley. "Sell them a key that keeps shrinking to nothing so that they can never find it when they need it... Of course, it's very hard to convict anyone because no Muggle would admit their key keeps shrinking - they'll insist they just keep losing it. Bless them, they'll go to any lengths to ignore magic, even if it's staring them in the face...But the things our lot have taken to enchanting, you wouldn't believe -"

"LIKE CARS, FOR INSTANCE?"

As Mrs. Weasley appeared, holding a long poker like a sword, Marcus was wondering when that whole fiasco would rear its' ugly head. Mr. Weasley's eyes jerked open, turning to Mrs. Weasley with guilt written all over his face.

"C-cars, Molly, dear?"

"Yes, Arthur, cars," said Mrs. Weasley, her eyes flashing. "Imagine a wizard buying a rusty old car and telling his wife all he wanted to do with it was take it apart to see how it worked, while _really_ he was enchanting it to make it _fly_."

Mr. Weasley blinked before replying, "Well, dear, I think you'll find that he would be quite within the law to do that, even if - er - he maybe would have done better to, um, tell his wife the truth... There's a loophole in the law, you'll find... As long as he wasn't _intending_ to fly the car, the fact that the car _could_ fly wouldn't -"

"Arthur Weasley, you made sure there was a loophole when you wrote that law!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. "Just so you could carry on tinkering with all that Muggle rubbish in your shed! And for your information, Harry arrived this morning in the car you weren't intending to fly!"

"Harry?" said Mr. Weasley blankly. "Harry who?"

He looked around, saw Harry, and very nearly jumped out of his seat.

"Good lord, is it Harry Potter? Two famous wizards in my house, imagine that! Very pleased to meet you, Harry, Ron's told us so much about -"

 _"Your sons and Marcus flew that car to Harry's house and back last night!"_ shouted Mrs. Weasley. "What have you got to say about that, eh?"

Marcus was about to speak up when he was caught surprised by Mr. Weasley eagerly saying, "Did you really? Did it go all right?" As he saw the sparks flying from Mrs. Weasley's eyes, he faltered and said, "I - I mean, that - that was very wrong, boys - very wrong indeed..."

"Let's leave them to it," Ron muttered to Harry and Marcus as Mrs. Weasley swelled like a bullfrog. "Come on, Harry, I'll show you my bedroom."

As they made their way up, Marcus noticed Ginny staring out into the stairwell from her bedroom door. However, upon seeing Harry, she closed her door in quite the hurry.

"Ginny," said Ron. "You don't know how weird it is for her to be this shy. She never shuts up normally -"

"I actually prefer her normal side to this any day," said Marcus. "Being that shy makes things rather awkward."

"At least it's quiet," Ron told him. "I'll take the quiet any chance I can."

Finally, they reached Ron's room and, as Ron opened the door, the first thing Harry said was, "Your Quidditch team?"

"The Chudley Cannons," said Ron, who pointed at the orange bedspread. "Ninth in the league."

Harry surveyed the room before looking out the window, which Marcus noticed that the gnomes were making their way back to the garden. When Harry turned and looked at Ron, Ron said in a hurry, "It's a bit small. Not like that room you had with the Muggles. And I'm right underneath the ghoul in the attic; he's always banging on the pipes and groaning..."

Marcus then noticed Harry giving a wide grin and stated, "This is the best house I've ever been in."

As Ron's ears went pink, Marcus took a seat next to his own stuff and thought, _"I couldn't have said it better myself, Harry."_


	5. (05) The Mysteries of Diagon Alley

**Disclaimer: : Harry Potter, not mine. OC's, mine. Simple enough.**

 **Here is...**

Ch 5: The Mysteries of Diagon Alley

 **Enjoy!**

It took a little while, but eventually, Marcus ended up receiving a letter from his parents that he really wasn't looking forward to. As he opened it lying on his sleeping space in Ron's room, it read:

 _Marcus,_

 _Mrs. Weasley told us about the incident with the flying car, and you should consider yourself lucky that she's a merciful lady. Pull a stunt like that again, and you'll be finding yourself short of a few privelages, and you know what would go first._

Marcus suddenly found himself breaking out in a cold sweat. Surely, his parents weren't referring to that particular activity, right?

He then continued with the letter.

 _Anyway, send us a reply of the date that you'll be going to Diagon Alley. We'll make sure to get that day off so that we can go with you to get your supplies. Please be sure to help Mr. and Mrs. Weasley any chance you can. We hope to see you soon._

 _Love,_

 _Mom and Dad._

Marcus then sighed in relief. He only got a slap on the wrist this time, but he knew that his parents weren't joking around, after all. If he got caught breaking Wizarding Law, it would look extremely bad on his parents. He had to be sure to keep that in mind in case another tempting adventure came around the corner.

Seeing Harry and Ron still asleep, Marcus got dressed in his workout clothes and quietly made his way down the stairs so that he could work out in the backyard. He made sure to take his wooden nodachi he formed out of a thick branch so he could shake the rust off, so to speak.

He started with a few basic manuvers and worked his way into different sword techniques that allowed him to keep enemies at a distance.

He wasn't even halfway done with his workout when he heard, "Good morning, Marcus."

He looked to see Mr. Weasley coming out the back door, approaching him and he asked, "Might I ask what you're doing?"

"I'm doing my daily morning workout," Marcus simply said. "This morning is sword practice."

"And where exactly did you learn to use a sword?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Well, when I was about eight or nine, Mom and Dad had to spend a year in Japan helping out the Japanese Ministry of Magic and, naturally, that meant that I had to go with them. During my time there, I met a boy around my age that was kind enough to take me to his school of sword training. I learned their craft pretty quickly and, at the end of my time there, they gave me a parting gift that turned out to be a nodachi blade. It's stuck with me ever since."

"I see," said Mr. Weasley, who was listening to every detail. "Marcus, I understand that it's difficult to be with your parents, considering the natures of their jobs and all."

"Oh, I know," said Marcus. "But, I understand. I don't hate them for it, and they don't neglect me at all. I know that they care about me so much, and I don't know what I'd do without them. Quite frankly, I don't know how Harry's able to go through life without his parents."

"Well, having friends like yourself and Ron makes it a little easier, I believe," Mr. Weasley stated.

Marcus allowed himself a smirk before saying, "Well, back to my workout."

Mr. Weasley, not wanting to disturb him anymore, went back into the house.

* * *

After taking a shower and getting dressed, Marcus saw Harry and Ron only waking up.

"It's about time," Marcus said. "You're mom's almost done with breakfast."

So, the three of them made their way down for breakfast only to find Mr. and Mrs. Weasley already sitting at the table, as well as Ginny. The moment she saw Harry, however, Ginny accidently knocked her porridge bowl to the floor with a loud clatter.

 _"Well, that was embarrassing, to say the least,"_ Marcus thought as he saw Ginny dive under the table to retrieve the bowl and emerged as red as the setting sun.

Whenever Harry was around, Ginny was far more prone to do something really clumsy, like knocking things over or tripping herself going up the stairs. It set Marcus a little on edge, mostly due to how awkward it would get afterwards whenever Ginny did something clumsy because of Harry's presence.

Pretending like it never happened, the three boys sat down and took the toasts Mrs. Weasley offered.

"Letters from school," said Mr. Weasley, passing Harry, Ron, and Marcus identical envelopes of yellowish parchment, addressed in green ink. "Dumbledore already knows you're here, Harry - doesn't miss a trick, that man. You two've got them, too," he added, as Fred and George ambled in, still in their pajamas.

For a few minutes there was silence as they all read their letters. Marcus noticed that the same instructions to get to King's Cross still applied, date and all. He also noticed the list of books that he would have to buy for the upcoming year.

 **Second-year students will require:**

 _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_ by Miranda Goshawk

 _Break with a Banshee_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Gadding with Ghouls_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Holidays with Hags_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Travels with Trolls_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Voyages with Vampires_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Wanderings with Werewolves_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Year with the Yeti_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

The first thing that Marcus thought was, _"What idiot would put such garbage books on an educational book list?!"_

"You've been told to get all Lockhart's books, too!" said Fred, who peered over Harry and Marcus's lists. "The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan - bet it's a witch."

Marcus was about to say his two Knuts worth regarding the book list, but saw the look on Mrs. Weasley's face and decided to keep his mouth shut.

"That lot won't come cheap," said George, with a quick look at his parents. "Lockhart's books are really expensive..."

"Well, we'll manage," said Mrs. Weasley, but she looked worried. "I expect we'll be able to pick up a lot of Ginny's things secondhand."

"Oh, are you starting at Hogwarts this year?" Harry asked Ginny.

She nodded, blushing to the roots of her flaming hair, and put her elbow in the butter dish. Marcus only saw it for a second before noticing Percy walking in. He was already dressed in his Hogwarts attire, complete with the excessively shining prefect's badge.

"Morning, all," said Percy briskley. "Lovely day."

 _"It was until you practically blinded me with that disgusting prefect's badge,"_ thought Marcus.

Percy took a seat in the only remaining chair but leapt up rather quickly, pulling from underneath him a molting, gray owl that Marcus recognized to be-

"Errol!" said Ron, taking the rather limp owl from Percy and extracting a letter from under its wing. " _Finally_ \- he's got Hermione's answer. Marcus and I wrote to her saying we were going to try and rescue you from the Dursleys."

He carried Errol to a perch just inside the back door and tried to stand him on it, but Errol flopped straight off again so Ron laid him on the draining board instead, muttering, "Pathetic." Then he ripped open Hermione's letter and read it out loud:

 _"Dear Ron, Marcus, and Harry if you're there,_

 _"'I hope everything went all right and that Harry is okay and that you didn't do anything illegal to get him out, boys, because that would get Harry into trouble, too. I've been really worried and if Harry is all right, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl, because I think another delivery might finish your one off._

 _"'I'm very busy with schoolwork, of course' -_ How _can_ she be?!" said Ron in horror. "We're on vacation!"

Marcus looked at him and exasperated, "Did you forget all of the homework we were assigned over the summer?!"

"Wait, there was homework?" asked Ron rather stupidly.

Marcus facepalmed himself and said, "I'll help you get it done, just read the rest of the letter."

Ron cleared his throat and continued, _"and we're going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don't we meet in Diagon Alley?_

 _"'Let me know what's happening as soon as you can. Love from Hermione.'"_

"Well, that fits in nicely, we can go and get all your things then, too," said Mrs. Weasley, starting to clear the table.

"Well, in that case, I'll need to write a letter," said Marcus, who grabbed the nearest bit of parchement, ink and quill he could find and wrote:

 _Mom and Dad,_

 _We've determined the date that we'll be going to Diagon Alley to pick up our school supplies. It's next Wednesday, and I strongly suspect that we'll be getting there by Floo Powder, based on the number of people in the house. The book list is full of garbage books by that smiling baffoon, Gilderoy Lockhart, by the way. I'll have to see if Flourish and Blotts has anything else that'll be worth learning for this year._

 _Love,_

 _Marcus_

He then whistled for Archie as Harry asked, "What's with the letter?"

"My parents wanted to know when I would be going to get my school supplies so that they could come along, as well," said Marcus as Archie landed on the table in front of him.

"Your parents are coming with us?!" asked Ron.

"Maybe," Marcus responded. "They have to get the day off first."

He then looked at Archie and said, "This is going to Mom and Dad, so you'll have to fly faster than usual."

Once Marcus was done tying the letter to Archie, he took off through the open window in the living room.

"So, boys," said Mrs. Weasley. "What're you all up to today?"

Harry, Ron, Marcus, Fred, and George were planning to go to the makeshift Quidditch field near the small paddock the Weasleys owned. The area surrounding the field in question were full of trees that further blocked the view from the village below, meaning as long as they didn't fly extremely high, they could practice Quidditch there.

Marcus insisted that they used his Quaffle for said practice, but they ultimately decided against it. After all, it would've been hard to explain if the Quaffle escaped them and found its way into the nearby village. Instead, they threw apples for one another to catch. They also took turns riding Harry and Marcus's Nimbus Two Thousands, which were easily the best brooms; Ron's old Shooting Star was often outstripped by passing butterflies.

Five minutes later they were marching up the hill, broomsticks over their shoulders. They had asked Percy if he wanted to join them, but he had said he was busy. Thankfully, Marcus only saw him at mealtimes, the rest of the time staying shut in his room. The less time he spent in Percy's presence, the better.

"Wish I knew what he was up to," said Fred, frowning. "He's not himself. His exam results came the day before you did, Harry; twelve O.W.L.'s and he hardly gloated at all."

"Twelve O.W.L.'s , really?!" asked Marcus. "Heck, I would be bragging if I did that well!"

"Ordinary Wizarding Levels," George explained to Harry, seeing the puzzled look on his face. "Bill got twelve, too. If we're not careful, we'll have another Head Boy in the family. I don't think I could stand the shame."

"I don't think I could stand being around him," Marcus said. "He's barely tolerable to be around as it is right now."

After a while, George said, "Dunno how Mum and Dad are going to afford all our school stuff this year. Five sets of Lockhart books! And Ginny needs robes and a wand and everything..."

It was at this point that Marcus started to feel really guilty. He would've been more than happy to share some of the money sitting in his own vault with the Weasleys. Goodness knows he had enough. However, his vault in question was one of his most closely guarded secrets. The last thing he could afford to happen was his friends finding out about what laid in his vault.

On the way back to the Burrow, Marcus happened to look into the sky to find Archie flying directly towards him.

"Say, old geezer, isn't that your owl?" asked Fred.

"It sure is," said Marcus. He stuck out his left arm for Archie to land on and, once Archie did just that, he said, "Great job on the speedy delivery today."

He noticed the letter attached to his right leg and, as he was taking it off of him, he stated, "Wait for me at the Burrow. I'll be sure to reward you properly there."

Archie then took off immediately for the house while Ron said, "Could your parents have already responded to your letter this morning?"

"Only one way to find out, Ron," stated Marcus as he open the letter and read out loud:

 _Marcus,_

 _We'll be at the Burrow next Wednesday at precisley 7:30 in the morning. We'll see you then._

 _Love,_

 _Mom and Dad_

Marcus just sighed. This meant that he was to be up and ready to greet them five minutes before their arrival. Such was the custom whenever his family was staying at another family's house. It was only proper, as his father always said.

"Your parents are coming?!" Ron asked.

"Yes, they are," Marcus stated.

Marcus happened to look at Fred and George, who were just as excited. Marcus just sighed. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

* * *

Marcus woke up that Wednesday morning at his usual time of 4:30 am.

 _"Well, at least I can finish shaking the rust off of my sword skills this morning before my parents arrive,"_ Marcus thought.

However, once he got to the back yard, he found a surprise there in the form of Ron.

"Ron, what exactly are you doing up right now?" asked Marcus.

"I couldn't sleep, mate," he replied. "The thought of meeting your parents again makes me both excited and nervous. I mean, they're so famous and amazing and they've both accomplished so much."

Marcus sighed and said, "I'm going to let you in on a secret, Ron. My parents don't like it when people don't act like themselves around them. At the end of the day, they're just like any witch or wizard living in our world. So, really, just be yourself and you'll be fine. Now, why don't you go get some sleep?"

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea," said Ron, who yawned and went back into the house.

* * *

 **7:25 am**

As Marcus was waiting just outside the front door, he thought to himself, _"It's weird. I haven't had a single Dark Prince nightmare since I first got here. I wonder what's going with that item in question...not that I know what it is. They didn't say what it was, save for the fact that it's connected to Voldemort."_

He then grabbed his hair in frustration as he thought, _"Dang it, I really wish I knew what item that servant went to get out of Gringotts!"_

All of a sudden, Marcus heard, "Isn't it a little early in the day to be stressing out, Marcus?"

He looked up to find his Mom and Dad looking at him with smirks on their faces.

He released his hair rather quickly and said, "Um, sorry about that, it's just...well, something's bothering me."

"Bothering you?" asked Brynn.

"Yeah, it's from a Dark Prince nightmare I had my first night here," Marcus stated.

At this, Michael's face was serious as he said, "What was it about?"

"Well," said Marcus, "He was communicating with a servant of his, making sure that the task he gave the servant before was carried out and it was. Only thing is, he has an ulterior motive and is confident he'll be 'killing two birds with one stone'."

"There was rumors that the Dark Prince had means of communicating long distances with his servants in the First Wizarding War," said Michael. "But, there was no way to prove it."

"Well, regardless, you should only be concerned about today's errands, Marcus," said Brynn.

"Okay, I guess," said Marcus. With that, the Williams family entered the Burrow.

Harry and Ron were one of the first to come down after Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and the moment Ron saw Mrs. Williams, he started to blush.

"Ah, hello, Mr. Williams," said Ron.

"Hello again, Ron," said Mr. Williams. He then looked at Harry and said, "Hello there, Harry."

"Uh, hello," said Harry, not sure of what to say.

"This is the first time we've met like this," Mr. Williams stated. "I'm sure that, if there was enough time, we'd catch up. However, we'll have to save that for another day."

It took a while that morning, but eventually, everyone in the Burrow managed to have their bacon sandwiches and gathered around the fireplace. Mrs. Weasley took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantlepiece and peered inside.

"We're running low, Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley.

"That's odd," said Mr. Weasley. "I swore I filled it up to the brim just a few weeks ago."

"Well, we'll just going to have to buy some more today," she stated. "Ah well, guests first! After you, Harry dear!"

Marcus looked at Harry, who had the most puzzling look on his face as he took the flowerpot. He looked around the area before stammering, "W-what am I supposed to do?"

"He's never traveled by Floo Powder," said Ron suddenly. "Sorry, Harry, I forgot."

"Never?" said Mr. Weasley. "But how did you get to Diagon Alley to buy your school things last year, Harry?"

"Marcus and I went on the Underground -"

"Really?" said Mr. Weasley eagerly. "Were there _escapators?_ How exactly -"

"Now is not the time, Arthur," said Michael in a stern voice, and Mr. Weasley quieted himself almost immediately. He then stroked his chin in wonder as he said, "Floo powder's a lot quicker than traveling normally, but I don't feel too comfortable with Harry using it, especially if he's never done it before -"

"Oh, everything will be fine, darling," said Brynn. She then looked at Harry and said, "Here, hand me the flower pot and I'll show you how its done, Harry."

"Um, okay," he said as he handed her the flowerpot.

"Now, you want to take just a pinch of it, no more than the amount you can grab with your thumb and pointing finger," she explained. "Once you have the powder, situate yourself in the middle of the fireplace, like this."

She then made her way smack dab in the middle of the fireplace and said, "Follow me so far, Harry?"

He nodded his head before she said, "You want to say the name of your destination decisivly and clearly before you throw the powder at the base of the fireplace, near your feet, like this."

She then practically shouted, "Diagon Alley!" and threw the powder near her feet and Harry jumped in surprise as roaring green flames whisked her away and out of sight.

"Now, be sure to get out at the right grate, Harry," Mrs. Weasley started saying.

"The right what?" said Harry nervously as the fire roared and whipped the Weasley twins out of sight.

"Well, there are an awful lot of wizard fires to choose from, you know, but as long as you've spoken clearly -"

"He'll be fine, Molly, don't fuss," said Mr. Weasley, helping himself to Floo powder, too.

"But, dear, if he got lost how would we ever explain to his aunt and uncle?"

"They wouldn't mind," Harry reassured her. "Dudley would think it was a brilliant joke if I got lost up a chimmney, don't worry about that -"

"All jokes aside, if it worries you that much, Molly, Marcus and I will follow behind Harry," Michael told Mrs. Weasley.

"Well...all right...Harry, you go after Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley. "Now, when you get into the fire, make sure to say where you're going -"

"And keep your elbows tucked in," Ron advised.

"And your eyes shut," said Mrs. Weasley. "The soot -"

"Don't fidget," said Ron. "Or you might well fall out of the wrong fireplace -"

"But don't panic and get out too early; wait until you see Fred and George."

Marcus was feeling a little nervous at this point. As he saw Harry make his way to the fireplace, Marcus felt like Harry was trying to remember too much in too little time. He was bound to make a mistake, something you didn't want to do when traveling by the Floo Network.

Marcus heard Harry coughed as his friend said, "D-Dia-gon Alley."

As soon as the green flames took Harry, Marcus looked at Michael and said, "Dad -"

"I know, I feel the same way right now," Michael said. "Let's go, hurry!"

Marcus and his father hurried to the fireplace, Michael said, "Diagon Alley!" and Marcus held on to his father's left sleeve as he saw the many fireplaces connected to the Floo Network whisk by him.

Eventually, Marcus and Michael came out of the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron and were greeted by the Weasley twins, Mr. Weasley, and Brynn.

"It's about time, darling," said Brynn. "I was wondering what was taking so long."

"Brynn, where's Harry?" asked Michael straightaway.

"Um, he hasn't arrived yet," she replied.

"But he left before we did," Marcus said. "How could he not be here yet?"

Michael had a look of worry on his face as he ushered Mr. Weasley to him. Once he got closer, he looked at Brynn and Arthur and said, "Harry messed up when he said his destination out loud. Marcus and I will go look for Harry, he shouldn't have gotten too far, but we'll need everyone to stay calm. Once everyone arrives, take everyone to the area just outside Gringotts." He then looked at Marcus and simply said, "Let's go."

Marcus followed his father closely as he said, "How are we going about this?"

"I already know where he ended up going," stated Michael.

"What?!" said Marcus. "How?!"

Michael and Marcus were about to go up an alley Marcus didn't recognize when he heard, "Michael, Marcus, is that you?"

The two of them turned around to find a familiar face, Rubeus Hagrid, with a smile on his face.

"Well, hello, Hagrid," said Marcus.

"We'll have time to talk later, Hagrid," said Michael. "Is this the alley that leads to the entrance to Knockturn Alley?"

"Yes, it is," Hagrid said, showing a look of worry. "I was jus' on me way there to buy some Flesh-Eatin' Slug Repellent. They've been ruinin' the school cabbages, see."

"Then you're timing is impeccable, Hagrid," said Michael. "We'll go there together."

As the three of them started walking down the alley, Hagrid asked, "If you don't mind me asking, Michael, what sort of business do you have in Knockturn Alley? Not too many witches and wizards will be keen on seeing Marcus and yerself there."

"It's a bit of an emergency," Michael said. "Otherwise, I'd steer clear."

"What kind of -" Hagrid started to say as he took a look down a flight of stairs and roared, "HARRY! What d'yeh think yer doin' down there?!"

Marcus whipped his head in the direction Hagrid was looking at and saw a surprised Harry and a nasty looking witch standing a little too close to him.

"Hagrid!" Harry croaked in relief. "I was lost - Floo powder -"

Marcus would never be able to understand how exactly the next event even happened. Without him noticing it, Hagrid closed the large gap between himself and Harry in no time and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him away from the witch while Michael merely looked at the witch and she ended up screaming and bolting down the alley.

Once the three of him got back out of Knockturn Alley, Hagrid sat put Harry back on his feet and said, "Yer a mess!" and proceeded to brush some of the soot off of Harry and almost knocked him into a barrel of dragon dung outside an apothecary due to the force Hagrid was using. "Skulkin' around Knockturn Alley, I dunno - dodgy place, Harry - don' want no one ter see yeh down there -"

"I realized _that,_ " said Harry, who ducked as Hagrid made to brush him off again. "I told you, I was lost - what were you doing down there, anyway?"

" _I_ was lookin' fer some Flesh-Eatin' Slug Repellent," growled Hagrid. "They're ruinin' the school cabbages. I take it yer not on yer own?"

"He's staying with the Weasley's along with Marcus, Hagrid," stated Michael. "He got separated from everyone else via the Floo Network. Speaking of which, we need to get to Gringotts."

As they off down the street, Hagrid looked at Harry and asked, "How come yeh never wrote back ter me?" By the time Harry was done explaining all about Dobby and the Dursleys, Hagrid growled, "Lousy Muggles. If I'd've known -"

"Harry! Marcus! Over here!"

Harry and Marcus looked up and saw Hermione Granger standing at the top of the white flight of steps to Gringotts. She ran down to meet them, her bushy brown hair flying behind her.

"What happened to your glasses, Harry? Hello, Hagrid - Oh, it's _wonderful_ to see you two again - Are you coming into Gringotts, boys?"

"As soon as we meet back up with the Weasleys, Ms. Granger," said Michael, who had an amused look on his face.

Hermione looked at him and said, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you there. You must be -"

"Marcus's father, yes," said Michael. "Marcus has told me everything about you. Says you're the smartest person in his year."

Hermione was slightly blushing as she stated, "Oh, I don't know. Marcus is a remarkable student himself."

Marcus was about to say something when Hagrid said, "Looks like yeh won't have much longer ter wait, Michael."

Harry, Marcus, and Hermione turned around: Sprinting up the crowded street were Ron, Fred, George, Percy, Brynn and Mr. Weasley.

"There you are, Harry," Mr. Weasley said inbetween pants. "We _hoped_ you'd only gone one grate too far..." He mopped his glistening bald patch. "Molly's frantic - she's coming now -"

"Where did you come out?" Ron asked.

"Knockturn Alley," said Hagrid grimly.

 _"Excellent!"_ said Fred and George together.

"We've never been allowed in," said Ron enviously.

"I should ruddy well think not," growled Hagrid.

"My thoughts precisely," said Michael with a look of disapproval on his face. "Nothing but bad news in a place like that."

It was then that Mrs. Weasley came galloping into view, her handbag swinging wildly in one hand, Ginny just clinging onto the other.

"Oh, Harry - oh, my dear - you could have been anywhere - Michael, thank goodness you and Hagrid found him -"

As she gasping for breath, pulling a large clothes brush out of her bag and began sweeping the remaining soot off of Harry, Marcus thought, _"Gee, what am I, chopped liver?"_

As Mr. Weasley gave back his newly repaired glasses, Hagrid said, "Well, gotta be off. See yer at Hogwarts!"

Once Hagrid was a good way down the street, Harry turned to Ron, Marcus, and Hermione and said, "Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes? Malfoy and his father."

"Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" said Mr. Weasley sharply behind them.

"No, he was selling -"

"So he's worried," said Mr. Weasley with grim satisfaction. "Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something..."

"You be careful, Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley sharply as they were bowed into the bank by a goblin at the door. "That family's trouble. Don't go biting off more than you can chew -"

"So, you don't think I'm a match for Lucius Malfoy?" said Mr. Weasley indignantly.

"Arthur, it's not that, it's just -" Michael started to say, but stopped upon realizing that Mr. Weasley was immensly distracted by the sight of Hermione's parents, who were standing nervously at the counter than ran all along the great marble hall, waiting for Hermione to introduce them. "And there he goes again."

"But you're _Muggles!_ " said Mr. Weasley delightedly. "We must have a drink! What's have you've got there? Oh, you're changing Muggle money. Molly, look!" He pointed excitedly at the ten pound notes in Mr. Granger's hand.

Michael had to stifle his laughter as he said, "Why don't we break off in two groups, Molly? I'll take the young boys down to their vaults and everyone else can go with you."

"Oh, thank you so much, Michael," said Mrs. Weasley. "After that Floo Network fiasco that Harry had to go through, it's better to be safe than sorry."

Marcus silently groaned. This wasn't good news for him, not by any stretch of the imagination.

First, they stopped by Ron's vault. Marcus felt especially bad when he saw the little money the vault had and, by the time Ron came back to the cart with his money, he found himself getting more and more nervous.

Next was Harry's vault. It looked like Harry felt the same about Ron's vault as he did, because Harry was going out of his way to make sure that Ron couldn't see the amount of money he had, which was basically a small fortune.

Finally, it was Marcus' turn. When they arrived in front of his vault, Marcus looked to Harry and Ron and said, "Stay right here, guys, this should only take a few seconds."

"Nonsense, Marcus," said his father. "We've been sitting in this cart for a while. We could use the stretch."

Marcus cursed under his own breath as he inserted the key into the keyhole of his own vault. Hoping he could squeeze into the tiny opening, all hopes were dashed the moment his father grabbed the vault door and swung it wide open.

Marcus felt his heart drop to his stomach as Harry and Ron looked into his vault, which was practically full of Galleons, more than could be counted.

"Bloody Hell!" Ron said. "I didn't know you had this much money!"

"I don't remember you having this much money when we came last year, Marcus," said Harry.

Marcus found himself sweating a little bit as he said, "Well, that is, uh, I mean to say -"

"I thought so," he heard his father say. Marcus looked at him as Michael said, "You've been in contact with Mr. Booker, haven't you, Marcus?"

"Mr. Booker?!" asked Harry and Ron.

"He's a wizard back in the U.S. who runs a company that makes its profits off of bets made on Quidditch matches throughout the Wizarding World," Michael explained. "Based on what I'm seeing, you've been contacting him for at least this summer, maybe even longer."

"You don't have any proof!" Marcus said.

"Actually, I do," said Michael with a straight face, and Marcus immediately regretted opening his mouth. "You've been using the Weasley's Floo Powder to place your bets with Mr. Booker in the early hours of the morning, which would only be around six or seven in the evening their time. You've been using your owl, Archie, to send your winning statements between yourself and Mr. Booker to the goblins in Gringotts."

"But, how -"

"Archie is showing a lot of fatigue and hasn't been moving too much, which usually means he's been overworked, and the amount of Floo Powder missing from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's flowerpot indicates that you've been using a good amount of Floo Powder each time you've contacted Mr. Booker, something that only needs to be done when a person needs to use the Floo Network to contact someone halfway across the planet. There's a ring near the top of the inside of the flowerpot that shows how much they did have, which confirmed my suspicions. This, however, was your undoing."

He brought out an envelope from his inside coat pocket, addressed to Marcus from Gringotts, and Marcus felt the color drain from his face.

"This contains a letter from Gringotts stating their recommendation to move the contents of your vault to one of their more secure vaults in the lower levels of Gringotts due to your current vault reaching maximum capacity," said Michael. "Now, Marcus, I'll ask again: Have you been into contact with Mr. Booker?"

Marcus started shoving Galleons into his bag, not looking at his father, as he said, "Yes, I have."

Michael sighed and said, "I'll have to tell Mr. and Mrs. Weasley about this."

Marcus hurried up and got back into the cart, waiting to get out of this nightmare of a situation.

On the way back to the surface, Ron looked at Marcus and asked, "So, what's the story behind this Mr. Booker bloke?"

Marcus didn't want to tell him or Harry about Mr. Booker. However, upon seeing the look on his father's face, he sighed in defeat and said, "When I was around eight or nine, my parents and I stopped in Merlin's Village to do a few errands. During one of these errands, I broke away from my parents and started wandering around the village. Out of nowhere, this group of kids a few years older than me started making fun of my hair. Desperately wanting to get away from them, I walked inside the nearest building I could find. That building was Mr. Booker's building. Knowing I shouldn't have been there, I tried to walk out, but I was approached by a tall, big, black man: Mr. Booker himself. He invited me to take a seat at the bar area of the building. I heard the adults around me placing bets of some kind, so I asked Mr. Booker what exactly they were doing. He responded by saying they were placing bets on Quidditch matches. He explained how it worked in intricate detail and proceeded to ask if I was interested in placing a bet myself."

"What did you do?" asked Harry.

"I placed a bet, naturally," Marcus simply said. "Everything I had on the U.S.-Australia Quidditch match, U.S. winning over Australia, 250-120."

"And how much did you have on you exactly?" Ron asked.

"He had 150 galleons on him," Michael said with disapproval with a hint of anger. "One of our errands that day was to put his inheritance he'd only just recieved from his late grandparents in his Gringotts vault in Merlin's Village. By the time we found Marcus in Mr. Booker's building, he'd already signed the agreement and the bet could not be taken back."

"Yeah, it was not a pretty sight," said Marcus. "Mom had to get me out of there while Dad almost ripped Mr. Booker's head off, figuritavely speaking. Needless to say, I got punished."

"Was that it?" asked Ron.

"Well, no," said Marcus. "About a week later, a letter arrived from Mr. Booker addressed to me saying that I won the bet with 20 to 1 odds. U.S. had caught the Snitch when they were down 100-120. No one could believe that I had won three thousand Galleons from his establishment, so Mr. Booker ended up getting four times as many customers because of it, and Mr. Booker, seeing an opportunity, pulled a lot of strings and made it so that I could place my bets with his company anytime."

"Keep in mind, boys, that such activity is illegal to witches and wizards under the age of seventeen," Michael told Harry and Ron. "Yes, as Marcus as told you, he is technically allowed to gamble there, thanks to Mr. Booker. However," he added as he looked at Marcus, "he knows that he is not allowed to do so on his own and will be punished accordingly."

Marcus felt cold all over as he said, "Understood, sir."

Once they got back into the lobby, Marcus looked at Harry and Ron and said through gritted teeth, "Not a word to Hermione, understood?" The two of them immediately nodded.

Once they got back on the marble steps, Marcus looked inside his money bag and noticed he took way too much, about 200 galleons too much. He noticed Ginny standing a little ways from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and he got himself an idea.

"Hey, Ginny," he said to her. She blushed profously until she saw that it was Marcus and said, "Oh, hey, Marcus!"

He took seven Galleons from his pocket, gave it to her, and said, "Here's some money from Harry to buy yourself a new wand. Harry overheard your parents saying that they were going to have to buy a lot of your things secondhand and, well, he thought you should have something that's all yours and, well, nothing is as important as your wand, so he thought it was the least he could do for you."

"Harry said this?" said Ginny, who bypassed red and went straight to purple in embarrasment.

"Oh, yes," said Marcus. "Only, Harry wants this to be kept a secret from your parent's, so if your parents ask about this, tell them it was me, okay?"

"Oh, all right, Marcus," said Ginny.

"Oi, Marcus!" said Ron. "Come on, let's go!"

"Well, see you later, Ginny," said Marcus as he went towards his friends. He then thought, _"You'll be thanking me in a few years, Harry."_

"We'll all meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy your schoolbooks," said Mrs. Weasley, setting off with Ginny. "And not one step down Knockturn Alley!" she shouted at the twins' retreating backs.

As Harry, Ron, Marcus, and Hermione strolled off along the winding, cobbled street, the bag of Galleons swaying alongside Marcus's left hip, he watched his three friends buy three large strawberry-and-peanut-butter ice creams, which they slurped happily as the four of them wandered up the alley, examining the fascinating shop windows. Ron gazed longingly at a full set of Chudley Cannon robes in the windows of Quality Quidditch Supplies until Hermione dragged them off to buy ink and parchment next door. In Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop, they met Fred, George, and Lee Jordan, who were stocking up on Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks, and in a tiny junk shop full of broken wands, lopsided brass scales, and old cloaks covered in potion stains they found Percy, deeply immersed in a small and deeply boring book called _Prefects Who Gained Power._

 _"A study of Hogwarts prefects and their later careers,"_ Ron read aloud off the back cover. "That sounds _fascinating..._ "

"Go away," Percy snapped.

"'Course, he's very ambitious, Percy, he's got it all planned out...He wants to be Minister of Magic..." Ron told Harry, Marcus, and Hermione in an undertone as they left Percy to it.

Hearing Ron say that caused Marcus a shiver up his spine. He could only imagine the state of Great Britain's Wizarding Government if someone like Percy was the figurehead, none of said images being all that assuring.

* * *

An hour later, they headed for Flourish and Blotts. They were by no means the only ones making their way to the bookshop. As they approached it, they saw to their surprise a large crowd jostling outside the doors, trying to get in. The reason for this was proclaimed by a large banner stretched across the upper windows:

GILDEROY LOCKHART

will be signing copies of his autobiography

 _MAGICAL ME_

today 12:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m.

Marcus immediately felt his blood boiling as he said through gritted teeth, "You've got to be kidding me!"

"We can actually meet him!" Hermione squealed. "I mean, he's written almost the whole booklist!"

The crowd seemed to be made up mostly of witches around Mrs. Weasley's age. A harassed-looking wizard stood at the door, saying, "Calmly, please, ladies...Don't push, there...mind the books, now..."

Harry, Ron, Marcus and Hermione squeezed iniside. A long line wound right to the back of the shop, where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his books. They each grabbed a copy of _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_ and sneaked up the line to where the rest of the Weasleys were standing with Mr. and Mrs. Granger.

"Oh, there you are, good," said Mrs. Weasley. She sounded breathless and kept patting her hair. "We'll be able to see him in a minute..."

 _"Wish I didn't have to see him at all,"_ Marcus thought as he wanted nothing more than to buy his books and get out.

Sure enough, Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzlingly white teeth at the crowd. The real Lockhart was wearing robes of forget-me-not blue that exactly matched his eyes; his pointed wizard's hat was set at a jaunty angle on his wavy hair.

A short, irritable-looking man was dancing around taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash.

"Out of the way, there," he snarled at Ron, moving back to get a better shot. "This is for the _Daily Prophet -_ "

"Big deal," said Ron, rubbing his foot where the photographer had stepped on it.

Gilderoy Lockhart heard him. He looked up. He saw Ron - and then he saw Harry and Marcus. He stared. Then he leapt to his feet and positively shouted, "It _can't_ be Harry Potter and Marcus Williams?"

As the crowd parted, whispering excitedly, Marcus looked at Ron and said menacingly, "Remind me to deal with you -"

But, before he could finish his sentence, Lockhart dived forward, seized Harry and Marcus's arms, and pulled them to the front. The crowd burst into applause. Marcus's left fist was shaking with fury as his right hand was being shaken by Lockhart for the photographer, who was clicking away madly, wafting thick smoke over the Weasleys.

"Nice big smile, boys," said Lockhart, through his own gleaming teeth. "Together, the three of us are worth the front page."

When he finally let go of Marcus's hand, he barely had any feeling in his fingers. He tried his best to make his way back to the Weasley's, but Lockhart threw his arms around him and Harry's shoulders and clamped them tightly to his sides.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said loudly, waving for quiet. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!

"When young Harry and Marcus here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, they only wanted to buy my autobiography - which I shall be happy to present them now, free of charge -" The crowd applauded again, Marcus getting a bad feeling in his gut. "They had no _idea,_ " Lockhart continued, giving Harry and Marcus a little shake that did nothing for the feeling in his gut, "that they would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, _Magical Me._ Harry, Marcus, and their schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

If not for the amount of cheering and clapping the crowd was emitting, Marcus would've instantly punched the nearest bookshelf out of sheer anger. This vain, arrogant, idiot of a wizard, teaching?! Such a thought was purely unthinkable!

As Marcus was trying to walk out of the bookshop with Lockhart's entire works, he said aloud, "Today couldn't possibly be any worse!"

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter, Williams?" said a voice that Marcus had absolutely no trouble recognizing.

 _"Did I really have to go and jinx myself like that?"_ thought Marcus as he put his books into his cauldron and found himself looking at Draco Malfoy, who was wearing his usual sneer.

"Harry Potter and Marcus Williams, the _Famous_ Duo," said Malfoy. "Can't even go into a _bookshop_ without making the front page."

Before Marcus had the chance to deck Malfoy in the face, he heard Ginny say, "Leave Harry and Marcus alone, they didn't want all that!" Glaring at Malfoy, Marcus noticed that it was the first time she had spoken in front of Harry.

"Potter, you've got yourself a _girlfriend_!" drawled Malfoy. Ginny went scarlet as Ron and Hermione fought their way over, both clutching stacks of Lockhart's books.

"Oh, it's you," said Ron, looking at Malfoy as if he were something unpleasant on the sole of his shoe. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry and Marcus here, eh?"

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley," retorted Malfoy. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those."

Ron went as red as Ginny. He dropped his books into the cauldron, too, and started toward Malfoy, but Harry and Hermione grabbed the back of the jacket. Marcus was too busy trying to hold himself back from punching Malfoy into the nearest bookshelf.

"Ron!" said Mr. Weasley, struggling over with Fred and George. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well - Arthur Weasley."

Marcus turned towards the door to find Mr. Malfoy, standing next to Draco with his hand on his son's shoulder, sneering in the same fashion.

Marcus started to look around for his Mom and Dad, but they were nowhere to be seen. Where exactly were they?

"Lucius," said Mr. Weasley, nodding coldly.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," said Mr. Malfoy. "All those raids...I hope they're paying you overtime?"

He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration._

"Obviously not," Mr. Malfoy said. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Mr. Weasley flushed darker than either Ron or Ginny.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," he said.

"Clearly," said Mr. Malfoy, his pale eyes straying to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were watching apprrehensively. "The company you keep, Weasley...and I thought your family could sink no lower -"

There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads; there was a yell of, "Get him, Dad!" from Fred or George; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, "No, Arthur, no!"; the crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over; "Gentlemen, please - please!" cried the assistant, and then, louder than all -

"THAT IS ENOUGH!"

Out of nowhere, Brynn and Michael Williams cleared the sea of book surrounding Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy. Brynn pointed her wand at Mr. Weasley, who backed off immediately, while Michael pointed his wand directly at Mr. Malfoy's throat, causing him to put his hands up in surrender.

"Ah, Mr. Williams, I didn't see you there," said Mr. Malfoy.

"Get out of this store," said Michael through gritted teeth. "And take your son with you. I expect to see you in my office first thing in the morning."

"Duly noted, Mr. Williams," said Mr. Malfoy with less cheerfulness in his voice. Michael then lowered his wand and Mr. Malfoy approached Ginny and said, "Here, girl - take your book - it's the best your father can give you -" Wanting to get himself away from the stares of Michael Williams, he beckoned to Draco and swept from the shop.

Hagrid, who almost stopped the fight himself, looked to Mr. Weasley and said, "Yeh should've ignored him, Arthur. Rotten ter the core, the whole family, everyone knows that - no Malfoy's worth listenin' ter - bad blood, that's what it is."

"Arthur, I expect to see you in my office first thing in the morning, as well," said Michael. "Just because we're friends does not excuse your part of this fiasco."

Mr. Weasley could only nod his head as Brynn said, "All right, everyone, I think it's time to go."

The assistant looked as though he wanted to stop them leaving, but he barely came up to Hagrid's waist and seemed to think better of it. They hurried up the street, the Grangers shaking with fright and Mrs. Weasley was beside herself with fury.

"A _fine_ example to set for your children... _brawling_ in public... _what_ Gilderoy Lockhart must've thought -"

"He was pleased," said Fred. "Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He was asking that bloke from the _Daily Prophet_ if he'd be able to work the fight into his report - said it was all publicity -"

Brynn, who noticed something off place, said to everyone, "Has anyone seen Marcus?"

Everyone looked around in the group to find that Marcus was nowhere to be seen.

"I'm going to go find him," said Michael. "No one moves until I find him."

No one dared argued with him, due to how angry he still was, as Michael started making his way down the winding street.

* * *

Marcus immediately took off the street as fast as he could. He had used the confusion of flying books and the brawl to get himself out of the store. He didn't care where he went to, just somewhere as far away from Flourish and Blotts as possible. He had enough bullcrap for one day.

He reached the end of Diagon Alley and just ran into the store to his left, opened the door, entered it, and shut it rather forcefully behind him.

He was shaking with fury all over. Did that miserable greaseball, Malfoy, have to come and make everything worse?!

"You seem distressed, young man," a rather old voice said behind him.

He looked to find a bald man around his height with a small, white beard and a pleasant look on his face.

"Gee, what was your first guess?!" he said to him.

"You should see yourself, young man," the old man said to him as he held up a mirror.

Marcus then noticed, besides the angry look on his face, that his irises were a solid gold. He didn't recall making them appear, but he knew that he had to calm down.

He took deep breaths, in and out, until he could breathe easy and the sensation of his eyes departed.

"Sorry about that, sir," he said to him, feeling guilty about his tone from earlier. "Today hasn't been the greatest of days."

"I completely understand," said the old man. "Everyone has days like that. No one is exempt from it."

Marcus then looked along the walls to find an assortment of swords, shields, and varied versions of equipment, all of which looked to be high quality.

"Whoa," said Marcus. "What is this place?"

"I'm very glad you asked that, young man," said the old man. "This is Nilrem's Warrior Emporium, home of all your battle needs. I'm Mr. Nilrem, and I'm the store owner."

"A pleasure, Mr. Nilrem," said Marcus. "I'm -"

"Marcus Williams, soon to be starting second year at Hogwarts and friends with Harry Potter, no?" asked Mr. Nilrem.

Marcus gave him a puzzling look as he said, "Wow, you're good."

"No, no, dear boy, merely informed," said Mr. Nilrem, who waved his hand in protest. "I think I know just the thing to turn your day around."

"Really, now?" asked Marcus as he saw him dip below the counter.

"Oh, yes," said Mr. Nilrem, who was starting to make some cluttering noises, like he was digging real hard. "I have a feeling that you have a good eye for quality equipment and I also think you'll appreciate...Oh, for the love of Merlin, where in the world is it...I'm sure it was - Ah, here it is!"

He brought a rather old, dusty box that was 2 feet in length, 1 foot wide and six inches in height.

Despite it's appearance, however, something was different about it and, the minute Mr. Nilrem opened the box, he knew why.

Sitting in the box were the nicest pair of armguards he'd ever seen. It wasn't just the shine, either. He focused his eyes until he felt the familiar sensation come to them, and he saw a white aura around it.

"What's it made out of?" asked Marcus.

"A metal long since forgotten by our kind," said Mr. Nilrem with a smile. "Capable of deflecting any spell, flexible to the wearer, immovable by foes. Comes at a price, though."

"Name your price, Mr. Nilrem," said Marcus.

"I didn't mean just monetary value, young man, though these aren't going to be cheap," said Mr. Nilrem. "Once the wearer puts on these armguards, they can never truly be taken off...at least, not while the wearer is alive. But, you won't find armguards like these anywhere else, that I can assure you."

Marcus's mind was made up. "How much for the armguards?"

"Well, they're very valuable, so I'd say 100 Galleons," said Mr. Nilrem.

Marcus immediately looked into his sack of Galleons and pulled out 100 Galleons as quick as he could. "There you are, Mr. Nilrem."

"Ah, pleasure to do business with you, Marcus," said Mr. Nilrem as he put the armguards inside the box.

"Oh, and two more things before you leave, young man," he called out.

Before Marcus could open the door, he looked at Mr. Nilrem and said, "What is it?"

"Those armguard will brand themselves with a symbol that represents you the best upon putting them on," Mr. Nilrem stated. "Also, be extra careful after you put them on. The last thing you want is people coming after your armguards."

"Understood, sir," said Marcus. "Do you think you'll be here in the near future?"

"Ah, time is a fickle thing, Mr. Williams," Mr. Nilrem said, "I may be here one day and gone the next. But, should you need something to help you on your path of life, and if your will is strong enough, I am sure we will meet again."

More confused than ever, Marcus said nothing else save for, "Have a good day, Mr. Nilrem."

New armguards in his cauldron, Marcus didn't take two steps outside the store when he heard a familiar voice saying, "There you are!"

He looked to his right to find his father walking towards him and saying, "Where have you been, Marcus?!"

"I was just walking around, letting off some steam," Marcus said, not wanting to reveal what just transpired.

"Well, let's get going," Michael said to him.

As they were walking, Michael said, "You do realize you're still getting punished, right?"

"For gambling, right?"

"For not telling your Mom and I," said Michael. "You are allowed to place your bets with Mr. Booker, but you need to tell us. The last thing we want to happen is for you to lose all of your money."

"I understand," said Marcus.

Once everybody was inside of the Leaky Cauldron, Michael turned to Mrs. Weasley and said, "Marcus, Brynn, and I have something to take care of back home, but if you don't mind, we'll be dropping him back off at the Burrow before bedtime tonight."

"Oh, please, by all means," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Thank you so much, Molly," said Brynn as the three of them made their way into the fireplace.

"Well, see you guys tonight," Marcus said, looking at Ron and Harry.

"Williams Residence!" said Michael and the three of them disappeared with the green fire.

* * *

That night, Michael apparated Marcus back to the Burrow, and he looked to his father and Michael said, "So, what have we learned?"

"Always let you and Mom know when I'm placing a bet with Mr. Booker," he said.

"Good," said Michael. "Be sure that Mrs. Weasley patches you up when you wake up tomorrow morning."

As Michael disapparated, Marcus started walking to the door of the Burrow. Every single muscle in his body was so sore, he didn't even know if he was moving or not. Surely, that was the worst thing he had to endure at this point. Nothing else came remotely close.

Finally, he made it to the door. As he proceeded to open it, he saw Mrs. Weasley, who looked at him, saying, "Goodness, Marcus, are you all right?"

"Not at all, Mrs. Weasley," said Marcus. "I can barely feel my muscles."

"Did your parents -"

"No, no, they didn't," Marcus said, knowing where she was going with that. "They've got more cruel methods of punishment than hitting me."

Mrs. Weasley didn't say anything more as Marcus slowly made his way up to stairs to Ron's bedroom.


	6. (06) The Hogwarts Express Scare

**Disclaimer: HP isn't mine, which is a crying shame. The OC's are mine, so not so bad in the end.**

 **Here is...**

Chapter 6: The Hogwarts Express Scare

 **Enjoy!**

After Marcus healed up from his parents' punishment, Marcus made sure that both Harry and Ron's summer homework was completed. As much excitement as he had spending the summer with the Weasleys, he was really looking forward to going back to Hogwarts and resume his top-secret training from his first year.

During Christmas last school year, by lucky circumstances, Marcus came across what he found out to be the Room of Requirement, a very special room in Hogwarts that basically catered to the witch and/or wizard that had great need of it. It was thanks to this room that he was able to learn the Disillusionment Charm, an immensly complex spell capable of rendering the caster invisible. He was also able to make some headway with his other "project", so to speak. This room was Marcus's greatest secret and the reason for his academic achievements. He especially had to make sure that no one else around him found this out, which would certainly lead to some awkward questions.

On the last evening before departing for Hogwarts, Mrs. Weasley whipped up a fantastic dinner that included all of Harry's favorite things, capping it off with some mouthwatering treacle pudding. Fred and George rounded off the evening with a display of Filibuster fireworks; they filled the kitchen with red and blue stars that bounced from ceiling to wall for at least half an hour. Then it was time for a last mug of hot chocolate and bed.

Marcus made sure to wake up earlier than usual, around four in the morning. He planned it this way so that he could pack everything, triple check for everything he needed, and place his things near the car before anyone could wake up. And he did exactly that, save for packing his armguards.

He figured he had another five minutes to spare before Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would wake up and start getting everyone around, so he took a look at his armguards and said, "Well, now's a good a time as any." With that, he placed his armguards on his forearms.

Immediately, he felt the rib-cage like bottom conform around his forearms, almost like they were becoming one with his forearms. He looked at the top of the armguards to find lines moving up and down until they formed a straight horizontal horned dragon breathing fire.

"Now that's impressive," said Marcus.

He heard the door to the front of the yard open and Marcus quickly pushed his long sleeves over his forearms to hide his new addition. He looked up to find Mrs. Weasley walking towards him saying, "Dear me, Marcus, what are you doing out here?"

He quickly shoved the armguard box in his luggage as he stated, "I'm placing my things near the car, Mrs. Weasley. I've already packed all of my belongings and they're ready to go, save for Archie, who I think is spending time with Hedwig."

"Well, one less thing to worry about this morning," said Mrs. Weasley, sighing in relief. "Marcus, why don't you help me with breakfast? I'm sure that'll make things easier this morning."

"Of course," said Marcus and Mrs. Weasley and him made their way to the kitchen.

* * *

Marcus was glad he got ready earlier in the morning, because getting everyone around in the Burrow was nothing short of chaotic.

From Mrs. Weasley's frantic search of spare socks and quills to people colliding on the stairs with bits of toast in their mouths to Mr. Weasley nearly breaking his neck tripping over the chickens trying to bring Ginny's trunk to the car, Marcus was glad there weren't any casualties as they fit seven large trunks, three owls, a rat, and nine people into the tiny car. Marcus had suspected that Mr. Weasley used a few charms on the car without Mrs. Weasley's knowledge.

As Mrs. Weasley glanced into the back seat where Harry, Ron, Marcus, Fred, George, and Percy were all sitting comfortably side by side, she said, "Muggles _do_ know more than we give them credit for, don't they?" She and Ginny got into the front seat, which had been stretched so that it resembled a park bench. "I mean, you'd never know it was this roomy from the outside, would you?"

Mr. Weasley started up the engine and they trundled out of the yard. Finally, they were on their way of getting to Hogwarts. Marcus already could imagine diving into books, learning new and useful spells. However, his imagination was grinded to a halt when he looked up to see that they were already back at the Burrow. Turns out that George had forgotten his box of Filibuster fireworks. Not five minutes after getting back on the road did they have to turn around again so that Fred could get his broomstick. They almost got back on the highway when Ginny shrieked that she'd left her diary. By the time she clambered back into the car, they were running very late, tempers were running high and Marcus gave the Weasley twins death stares that sent shivers up their spines.

Mr. Weasley glanced at his watch and then at his wife.

"Molly, dear-"

" _No,_ Arthur -"

"No would would see - this little button here is an Invisibility Booster I installed - that'd get us up in the air - then we fly above the clouds. We'd be there in ten minutes and no one would be any the wiser -"

Marcus was all for this plan until Mrs. Weasley said, "I said _no_ , Arthur, not in broad daylight -"

By the time they reached King's Cross, it was quarter to eleven. Marcus made sure that he grabbed all his things and dashed with the rest of the group.

When Marcus saw the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, he didn't bother waiting for permission. At this point, his patience had reached its limit and he wanted nothing more than to get on the train. So, before Mr. and Mrs. Weasley could say anything, Marcus started walking towards the barrier. As soon as he made it through, he made a mad dash for the luggage car of the Hogwarts Express, put his stuff in there, and made his way on the train.

Only when he took a seat in the farthest compartment possible did he feel really bad about his actions in King's Cross. He really shouldn't have done what he did, but the last thing he wanted to explain to his parents was why he ended up missing the train.

Not even a minute after he sat down in the compartment did he hear a familiar voice, saying "There you are, Marcus! I should've known you'd sit at the end of the train."

He looked at the door to find Hermione, who closed the door behind her and took a seat opposite of Marcus.

Marcus felt the train starting to move and said, "Finally, we're on our way to Hogwarts. I've been looking forward to this since summer started."

"Oh, I can't wait!" Hermione squealed. "There's tons of books I've yet to read in the library, and new spells to learn!"

"Speaking of which," said Marcus as he proceeded to pull out _The Standard Book Of Spells, Grade 2_ , "What would you say to a mastering spell race?"

Hermione proceeded to grab her own copy and said, "I accept your challenge."

"Ready," said Marcus as both of them flipped to the first page, "Set...GO!"

* * *

 **4 hours later...**

"Yes!" said Hermione as she closed the book. "I've won!"

"Wow," said Marcus as he finished up mastering the last few spells in the book. "You beat me by a mile."

"Well, you weren't so bad either, Marcus," said Hermione. "I'm surprised you didn't win, though. You're usually really good at mastering spells."

 _"That's because I usually have the Room of Requirement to help me master any spells I'm having a difficult time with,"_ thought Marcus.

"I've just noticed something," said Hermione. "Where's Harry and Ron?"

Marcus looked at her and said, "Well, they may be in a different compartment in the train. We had to practically run to the barrier and it was pretty chaotic."

"Well, I guess you're right," said Hermione, "Still..."

It was that moment that the compartment door opened and Ginny walked in.

"Oh, hey, Ginny!" said Marcus.

"Hello, Marcus," said Ginny. "Hello, Hermione."

"Hello," said Hermione.

"Say, Ginny," said Marcus. "Have you seen Harry or Ron on the train?"

"Seen them?" asked Ginny. "Um, no, I haven't. I thought they would've been here with you guys."

"Well, that's mysterious," said Marcus.

"But, never mind that," said Ginny. "Have you heard what everyone's saying on the train?"

"Well, we've been a bit pre-occupied," said Hermione. "So, no. What's everyone talking about?"

"There's a girl somewhere on the train that looks like a new student, and she's apparently super gorgeous," Ginny stated.

"That's not very interesting," Marcus stated.

"Well, she's also supposed to be super nice and polite, plus she's got beautiful red hair, pretty green eyes, and a bright smile," said Ginny.

THAT got Marcus's attention. "Wait, what?"

Ginny looked to the hallway of the car and said, "Oh, I think that's her standing there at the other side."

Immediately, Marcus stuck his head out the compartent and couldn't believe it.

Sure enough, just like Ginny said, there was a girl about a head shorter than Marcus standing near the exit. She had red hair that reminded him of the color of blood, and teeth almost as bright as Lockhart's. When she turned her head slightly, he could see the sparkling emerald eyes. It was as if the girl from the Mirror of Erised jumped out of the mirror and into real life.

And it terrified Marcus to the bone.

The girl looked down the hallway and noticed Marcus sticking his head out the doorway. She had a puzzling look on her face before walking his way.

He immediately stuck his head back in the compartment and said, "Shit!"

"Marcus, what's the matter?" Hermione asked. "Blimey, you're as white as a ghost!"

Without warning, Marcus started waving his wand in circles above his head and said, "Absconditus!"

By the time the spell took full effect, there was a knock on the door and the same girl that Marcus saw just a minute ago opened it.

"I'm terribly sorry to bother you, girls," said the redheaded girl. "But, have you seen a young man with snow white hair?"

"I don't believe I have," said Hermione quickly. "But, I did hear that there's someone like that just up the train."

"Is that so?" the girl asked. Marcus saw the look on her face to be...disappointment? It only shown for a brief second before she gave a cute smile and saying, "Well, I'm sorry to have intruded. Please excuse me."

She then curtsied, followed by leaving the compartment.

"Well, she's gone," said Ginny.

"Are you sure?" asked Marcus, who was still invisible. "You're positive?"

"Oh, for goodness sake, Marcus!" exclaimed Hermione, who took her wand out and tapped Marcus's head saying, "Finite Incantatum!"

Marcus slowly was rendered visible again and, as soon as the spell was finished, Ginny said, "Is there something we should know about, Marcus?"

"Nope, not a one," Marcus quickly said as he looked out the window, looking at the countryside zooming by.

He didn't want to let them know the reason why he found himself breaking out in a cold sweat. He didn't want to tell them about the events over Christmas last year, nor did he want to say anything about the fact that what he saw in the Mirror of Erised was still giving him nightmares once in a while.

"Well, I'll be getting back to my own compartment," said Ginny. "See you guys in Hogwarts!"

After she left, it was silent for a while. Hermione started to read a different book while Marcus was lost in thought.

 _"How?"_ thought Marcus. _"How is it possible that a girl that looks exactly like the one in that foul mirror exist? Did the girl from the mirror come into existence the moment I smashed it? I'll have to ask Dumbledore the first chance I get. He was there, after all. He'll be able to tell me."_

Just then, he heard an announcement over the train's speakers: "Ladies and gentlemen, we'll be arriving at Hogwarts in five minutes. Please leave your luggage on the train. It will be taken to the school separately."

Once they changed into their school robes, Marcus and Hermione got off the train and were directed to the carriages. When they arrived, however, Marcus was startled.

He found himself looking at horses...at least, if they were dead. They were quite leathery and hideous, in Marcus's opinion, as were the uncanny bat-like wings on their backs.

"Have you ever seen such a creature before, Hermione?" asked Marcus. "The ones attached to the carriage, I mean."

Hermione gave him a puzzling look as she said, "Marcus, there's nothing attached to the carriage."

"What?" said Marcus. "But, they're right here! In plain sight!"

As they got into the carriage, Hermione looked at him and said, "Don't you know that the carriages always pull themselves? I've heard they're enchanted to do so. I thought everyone knew that."

"Well, they're clearly not being pulled by themselves!" exclaimed Marcus.

"Marcus, you're still being delirious from that incident on the train," Hermione told him. "Take a few deep breaths and try to relax."

Marcus knew he was not delirious, that he was in his right mind. Still, he didn't want to fight with Hermione, so he changed the subject.

"I wonder what this lot of first years are going to be like," said Marcus. "Hopefully, none of them are as bad as Malfoy."

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far," Hermione said. "Still, I'm curious too. That, and what we'll be learning this year. What subject will you be looking forward to the most, Marcus?"

"Charms," said Marcus without hesistation.

"That's odd," said Hermione. "I thought it would've been Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"It would've been if anyone else but that smiling, idiotic buffoon, Gilderoy Lockhart, was teaching the subject," Marcus said.

"Marcus!" Hermione scolded. " _Professor_ Lockhart is a very accomplished wizard! He's acclaimed across the Wizarding World!"

"He's a vain, arrogant idiot that seeks attention and will do anything to get it!" Marcus stated.

"That is simply not true!" said Hermione.

"All right, then," said Marcus, sticking out his right hand. "Let's make this interesting. 20 Galleons says that 'Professor' Lockhart hasn't actually done a single thing he says he's done in any of his books. And I'll prove it, by the end of the school year."

"I'll take your bet," said Hermione, who shook Marcus's hand. "Easiest bit of money I'll ever earn."

At that point, the carriage stopped in front of Hogwarts and Marcus and Hermione took a look at the castle and Marcus said, "It feels good to be back."

They made their way to the Great Hall and took a seat amongst fellow Gryffindor classmates.

"Blimey, about time you made it, old geezer!" Marcus heard Fred say from down the table.

"Well, Hermione and I were one of the last to get off the train," said Marcus. "Makes sense we would get here last."

He then heard the doors open and he saw Professor McGonagall in the lead, follow by a large group of curious boys and girls that were surveying the area around them.

"Hermione, did we look that clueless when we entered like that last year?" Marcus asked, to which Hermione slapped his arm to silence him.

Marcus then took another look and saw the same girl from the train and immediately looked away to the High Table and wished he hadn't.

He saw Gilderoy Lockhart, sitting there with a smile that seemed to literally strech from ear to ear, and he found himself getting nauseated from just looking at him.

Professor McGonagall then placed the Sorting Hat on the stool and the hat started to sing a new song, but what it was, Marcus couldn't tell, mostly due to the fact that he was too busy trying to keep himself together. Between the appearance of that girl and Lockhart actually being a teacher, Marcus thought for sure he was going to lose it.

He managed to snap out of it in time for Professor McGonagall to start reading out the names of first years that needed to be sorted. He distracted himself by keeping track of what houses got how many students.

"So, that's three for Ravenclaw, four for Hufflepuff, eight for Gryffindor, and ten for Slytherin," said Marcus. "Wow, this is certainly an evil bunch, isn't it?"

"Oh, stop that!" said Hermione. "Not all Slytherins are like Malfoy!"

"Might as well be," said Marcus.

He then heard Professor McGonagall say, "Flamel, Lorelei!"

He then saw that same girl from the train approach the stool and Hermione said, "Look, Marcus, there she is."

"Good God, don't remind me," said Marcus as he could feel himself breaking out in another cold sweat. As the Sorting Hat was getting placed on her head, Marcus started thinking, _"Please get placed anywhere else. Anywhere else is fine! Any house but Gryffindor!"_

After ten seconds, the Sorting House shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

While the Gryffindor table clapped and cheered, Marcus slammed his head onto the table and said, "You have got to be kidding me!"

Hermione said, "Marcus, get a hold of yourself!" and situated Marcus back into the upright position.

He then heard a familiar voice saying, "Excuse me, can I sit down here?"

He turned his head to find Lorelei Flamel standing behind him and Hermione, pointing between the two, her expression on her face almost eager.

"Of course," said Hermione, who started to move away from Marcus to make room for her.

Marcus immediately grabbed Hermione's closest leg and scooted her closer to him, leaving a gap between her and a sixth year Marcus didn't recognize.

Marcus glanced at her to see her look a little crestfallen before taking a seat in the open gap.

Hermione rounded on Marcus and whispered, _"What is the matter with you, Marcus?! Can't you tell she wanted to sit next to you?!"_

Marcus whispered back, _"Of course I did! That's what I didn't want to happen!"_

 _"When we get up to the dormitory, we're going to have a talk!"_ Hermione whispered.

 _"Fine!"_ Marcus replied, still whispering. _"In the meantime, drop it!"_

Eventually, Ginny's name was called. She sat down on the stool, and the Sorting Hat barely touched her head when it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Well, I can't say that I'm surprised at all," said Marcus as he proceeded to clap with the other Gryffindor students.

As Ginny took a seat across from Marcus, Professor Dumbledore stood up and said, "Ah, another brand new year. I have a few start of term announcements before we divulge ourselves in our wonderful feast."

"First, I like to remind everyone that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to all students. Also, magic is not to be used outside of classes. Our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has posted the list of objects that are banned in Hogwarts. Please be sure to look over the list in your respective dormitory bulletin boards. Finally, I have the pleasure in introducing our new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart."

As Professor Dumbledore gestured to Lockhart, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher stood up from his seat at the High Table with a smile and waved to the students. Almost everyone clapped and Marcus could hear most of the girls squeal in delight. He pretended to hurl and recieved a few laughs from the nearby boys.

"Now, everyone, dig in!" said Dumbledore.

The food magically appeared on the dishes and Marcus immediately went for the turkey and vegetables. It was really tempting to get some other dishes, but he still had to worry about his food intake. Otherwises, all of his workouts would be meaningless.

He then overheard Ms. Flamel saying, "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself on the train. I'm Lorelei Flamel."

"I'm Hermione Granger," said Hermione.

"Wait, you're Ms. Granger?" said Flamel. "I've heard about you! You're the smartest person in the 2nd year class!"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," said Hermione, the blushing on her face evident. "I'm merely dilligent in my studies."

"Is it all right if I ask you for help from time to time?" asked Flamel. "It would mean so much to me."

"Of course," said Hermione.

"Thank you so much!" said Flamel.

Marcus was doing his best not to look to his right side, where Hermione and that Flamel girl was sitting. He saw something move up the Great Hall and diverted his attention to see Professor Snape moving towards the High Table.

 _"I wondered why Snape wasn't sitting at the High Table earlier,"_ thought Marcus. _"But, what's he doing?"_

He made his way to Professor McGonagall and whispered something in her right ear, whose lips grew very thin. Professor McGonagall then proceeded straight to Dumbledore and whispered in his ear. He stood up and started to walk down from the High Table while Professor McGonagall started walking with Snape.

"I wonder where Professor McGonagall is going with him," said Marcus out loud as he finished off his meal.

No sooner than he'd done that then he heard another familiar voice behind him say, "Ah, there you are, Marcus. Enjoying the feast?"

He looked behind him to find Professor Dumbledore, standing there with a genuine smile on his face.

"Ah, Professor Dumbledore," said Marcus, making sure to clean off his face. "Yes, the feast is excellent so far."

"Perhaps you'll come with me, Marcus?" asked Professor Dumbledore. "There are a few things I'd like to talk to you about."

"Ah, yes, of course," said Marcus, who eagerly got up and started walking with Dumbledore out of the Great Hall.

 _"Finally, something good happened today,"_ noted Marcus.

As they started walking in the Entrance Hall, Professor Dumbledore said, "I never got the chance to ask you how you were doing after last year's events with the stone. You are holding up well?"

"Oh, yes," said Marcus. "To be honest, it wasn't too bad. I was more concerned about Harry than myself."

"As a good friend should," said Professor Dumbledore. "I wanted to make sure that the actions you took wasn't too consequential."

"Too consequential?" asked Marcus.

As they made their way down to the Dungeons, Professor Dumbledore said, "Every action we take comes at a price, in one form or another. By taking one action, we also take the consequences that comes with it. What you eventually will understand, young Marcus, is that every choice you make comes with consequences. Whether they are great or small is up to you."

As they stood in front of what Marcus recognized to be Snape's office, Dumbledore continued to say, "As you're about to find out, some decisions carry greater consequences than others."

They opened the door and Marcus walked in to find not only Professor McGonagall and Snape, but Harry and Ron as well.

"Harry! Ron!" said Marcus. "I was wondering where you guys...wait...what's going on?"

He looked to Professor Dumbledore, who put his left hand up in silence. Marcus could see the look of graveness on his face. Surely, this wasn't going to be good.

It was silent for a while before Professor Dumbledore said, "Please explain why you do this."

It was then that Harry explained the entire story, albeit looking at his own knees instead of at Professor Dumbledore. Marcus couldn't believe what he was hearing.

When Harry was finished speaking, Ron said in a hopeless sort of voice, "We'll go and get our stuff."

"What are you talking about, Weasley?" barked Professor McGonagall.

"Well, you're expelling us, aren't you?" said Ron.

Marcus quickly looked at Professor Dumbledore, who said, "Not today, Mr. Weasley. But I must impress upon both of you the seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing to both your families tonight. I must also warn you that if you do anything like this again, I will have no choice but to expel you."

Marcus took a quick glace at Snape, who had a horrified look on his face, like he just found out Christmas was cancelled. Snape cleared his throat and said, "Professor Dumbledore, these boys have flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, caused serious damage to an old and valuable tree - surely acts of this nature -"

"It will be for Professor McGonagall to decide on these boys' punishments, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "They are in her House and are therefore her responsibility." He turned to Professor McGonagall. "I must go back to the feast, Minerva, I've got to give out a few more notices before dismissing the students. Come, Severus, there's a delicious-looking custard tart I want to sample -"

Marcus was holding himself back from showing any expression when he saw Snape shooting looks of pure venom at Harry and Ron, but quickly stopped when he saw that Snape looked at him the same way, like he suspected Marcus to be involved somehow. He then proceeded to sweep himself out of the office, leaving him, Harry, and Ron with Professor McGonagall, who was still watching Harry and Ron like a wrathful eagle.

"You'd better get along to the Hospital Wing, Weasley, you're bleeding," Professor McGonagall said to Ron.

"Not much," said Ron, hastily wiping the cut over his eye with his sleeve. "Professor, I wanted to watch my sister being Sorted -"

"The Sorting Ceremony is already done, Ron," said Marcus. "Don't worry, Ginny was sorted into Gryffindor."

"Oh, good," said Ron.

"And speaking of Gryffindor -" Professor McGonagall said sharply, but Harry cut in: "Professor, when we took the car, term hadn't started, so - so Gryffindor shouldn't really have points taken from it - should it?" he finished.

Marcus allowed a smirk to form on his face. _"That was well executed,"_ he thought. _"This should be interesting."_

"I will not take any points from Gryffindor," she said. "But you will both get a detention."

 _"That's definitely more mercy than Harry and Ron deserve,"_ Marcus thought.

Professor McGonagall raised her wand again and pointed it at Snape's desk. A large plate of sandwiches, two silver goblets, and a jug of iced pumpkin juice appeared with a pop.

"You will eat in here and then go straight up to your dormitory," she told Harry and Ron. She then turned to Marcus and said, "Williams, you are to escort them to the dormitory when they've finished eating."

"Yes, Professor," said Marcus.

She then proceeded to leave Snape's office, no doubt to return to the feast. Once the door closed behind her, Marcus decided to let Harry and Ron have it.

"I can't believe you two flew that car across the countryside!" Marcus yelled. "What are you guys, stupid?!"

"Take it easy, mate," said Ron, who grabbed a sandwich. "We weren't exactly thinking straight."

"Clearly not!" said Marcus, who grabbed the nearest chair and sat near Harry and Ron.

"I thought we'd had it," said Harry, who also helped himself to a sandwich.

"So did I," said Ron. "Can you believe our luck, though? Fred and George must've flown that car five or six times and no Muggle ever saw _them_." He then had a puzzling look on his face and said, _"Why_ couldn't we get through the barrier?"

"So, the barrier at King's Cross _actually_ blocked you guys off?" Marcus said. When he heard Harry say that earlier, he only half-believed it.

"Yeah," said Harry, taking a swig of pumpkin juice. "It happened after Ron's parents and Ginny went through the barrier."

 _"Interesting,"_ thought Marcus. _"Obviously, someone or something interfered. Otherwise, they would've been on the train with myself and Hermione."_

"So, Marcus," Ron said, "Anything interesting happen on the train or at the feast?"

"Well, the feast, no," said Marcus. "Believe me, other than Ginny being Sorted into Gryffindor, you guys didn't miss anything. The train, however..."

He then launched into an entire retelling of the events that happened on the Hogwarts Express. By the time Marcus was done, Harry asked, "Is it really that bad?"

"Well, it's downright suspicious, at the least," Ron said to Harry. "The same girl that looks like the one from the mirror last Christmas _happens_ to be coming to Hogwarts as a first year student? That would make me nervous."

"Thank you!" said Marcus, relieved to find someone who agreed with him. "Of course, I didn't tell Hermione what I saw in the mirror. How could I? Ginny was right there."

"You should try to ask Dumbledore about this," said Harry.

Marcus then facepalmed himself as he said, "Crap, I had the chance to ask him, but completely forgot!"

Marcus then noticed that Harry and Ron were done eating. "Well, shall we get going?"

As Harry, Marcus, and Ron started to make their way out of the Dungeons, Marcus told them, "You guys will have to watch it from now on. After the stunt you two pulled, all eyes will be on you."

Harry sighed and said, "I still wished we could've gone up to the feast..."

"She didn't want us showing off," said Ron sagely. "Doesn't want people to think it's clever, arriving by flying car."

As they made their way past muttering portraits and creaking suits of armor, walking up narrow flights of stone stairs, Marcus wanted nothing more than to just go to bed. He originally wanted to get a workout tonight in the Room of Requirement and get a jump start on this year's big project, but after today's events, he settled for having to start first thing in the morning.

Eventually, they found themselves standing in front of the Fat Lady, a portrait that guarded the secret entrance to Gryffindor Tower.

"Password?" she said to them.

"Er -" said Harry.

"Crap, I never got around to asking for the password," said Marcus.

They didn't have to wait for long, however. Marcus heard scurrying feet behind the three of them and they turned around to find Hermione dashing towards them.

" _There_ you are! Where have you guys _been_? The most _ridiculous_ rumors - someone said you two'd been expelled for crashing a flying _car_ -"

"Well, we haven't been expelled," Harry assured her.

"You're not telling me you and Ron _did_ fly here?" said Hermione, sounding almost as severe as Professor McGonagall.

"Skip the lecture," said Ron impatiently, "and tell us the new password."

"It's 'wattlebird'," said Hermione impatiently, "but that's not the point -"

Her words were cut short, however, as the portrait of the fat lady swung open and there was a sudden storm of clapping. Marcus only saw Harry and Ron for a second before they were grabbed by the arms and pulled into the common room.

Marcus sighed and said, "Well, at least I can go straight to bed."

Marcus only took a step when he felt his left wrist being grabbed...by Hermione.

"What now?" asked Marcus.

"We've still have to have our talk," she said, dragging him away from the Fat Lady portrait and into the first classroom she could find.

Once she confirmed that it was just the two of them, Hermione rounded on him and said, "So, what's the reason for your behavior towards that girl?"

"Who?" asked Marcus, feigning ignorance in hopes that she would just forget it.

It didn't work at all as she said, "I'm referring to Ms. Flamel, of course. You know that, after you left with Professor Dumbledore, she asked a few questions about you, right?"

His blood began to boil as he responded, "And what exactly did you tell her?"

"I only told her your name," she replied briskly. "But, you're dodging the point. Answer me, Marcus!"

"Okay, fine!" he half-shouted.

He then told Hermione the events with the Mirror of Erised.

"Wait, that girl from the Mirror of Erised looked exactly like Ms. Flamel?" asked Hermione.

"Like a doppelganger," said Marcus. "Now, do you understand why I'm freaked out?"

"Well, I guess I can understand," said Hermione. "But, it only sounds like a coincidence. It still doesn't excuse your actions around her."

"Only a coincidence?!" shouted Marcus. "I'm still having nightmares about what I saw in the Mirror of Erised! And then that girl shows up out of nowhere! And you expect me to disregard all of that?!" He then scoffed and continued, "You know what? This conversation is over!"

Before Hermione could stop him, Marcus took his wand, started waving circles around his head, and said, "Absconditus!"

Marcus then ran out of the room, ran to the Fat Lady, half-shouted, "Wattlebird!", and didn't stop until he found himself shut within the curtains of his four-poster.

If this was a matter of defeating it in battle, Marcus would indeed have already resolved it. However, this was a matter of psychological proportions, and that was certainly not one of his strong suits. He ended up going to bed without having an answer to his problems.


	7. (07) An Awfully Odd School Day

**Disclaimer: No ownership, save for OC's**

 **Here is...**

Chapter Seven: An Awfully Odd School Day

 **Enjoy!**

Sure enough, early next morning, Marcus woke earlier than the other boys and made his way down to the Room of Requirement for his morning workout and self-magic lessons.

By the time he returned to shower up and get ready for breakfast, he saw the other boys from his sleeping quarters just waking up.

"Good morning, Harry and Ron," Marcus said as the two of them sat up in their beds. "Did you sleep well?"

"In a manner of speaking," said Ron. "Don't tell me you woke up early to do your workout."

"Obviously," said Marcus. "I'm not about to slack off with my physical training just because I'm back at Hogwarts. Now, come on, let's get around."

By the time the three of them made it to the Great Hall, the four House Tables were already laden with different varieties of breakfast foods. Harry, Marcus, and Ron took a seat next to Hermione, who had her copy of _Voyages with Vampires_ propped open against a milk jug. There was a slight stiffness in the way she said "Morning", which Marcus understood to mean that she was still irritated about their talk from last night as well as Harry and Ron's entrance to Hogwarts.

Neville Longbottom, however, greeted them cheerfully. Neville was a round-face, accident prone with the memory worse than a goldfish.

"Mail's due any minute - I think Gran's sending a few things I forgot."

Marcus only got his hands on some fruit when, sure enough, there was a rushing sound overhead and a hundred or so owls streamed in, circling the hall and dropping letters and packages into the chattering crowd. Archie landed right in front of Marcus, holding out a few letters that were tied to his leg.

As Marcus started untying the letters, Marcus told Archie, "Come back tonight, Archie. I'll probably need you to send off a few letters."

As Archie flew away, e took one of them that had a lump inside the envelope, opened it up, and dumped the contents into the palm of his left hand, which turned out to be a pair of tiny corks.

"Why the heck did I get these?" Marcus asked himself.

He then noticed a big, lumpy package that bounced off Neville's head and, a second later, something large and gray fell into Hermione's jug, forcing Marcus to dodge the milk and feathers that went everywhere.

" _Errol!_ " said Ron, pulling the bedraggled owl out by the feet. Errol slumped, unconscious, onto the table, his legs in the air and a damp red envelope in his beak.

"Oh, no -" Ron gasped.

Marcus only noticed just seconds after Ron and, despite not being the intended receiver, still felt a great shiver up his spine.

"It's all right, he's still alive," said Hermione, prodding Errol gently with the tip of her finger.

"It's not that - it's _that_."

Ron was pointing at the red envelope. To the less educated, it looked quite ordinary, maybe even festive, but Marcus knew better. This was the postal equivalent of a Muggle time bomb just waiting to go off.

"What's the matter?" said Harry.

"She's - she's sent me a Howler," said Ron faintly.

"You'd better open it, Ron," said Neville in a timid whisper. "It'll be worse if you don't. My gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and" - he gulped - "it was horrible."

"I remember getting one from my mom when I was younger," said Marcus, who started to shudder. He then squeaked, "Worst letter I've ever received."

"What's a Howler?" Harry asked.

Before Marcus could answer Harry's question, he noticed that the corners of the letter were beginning to smoke.

He then heard Neville say, "Open it. It'll all be over in a few minutes -"

Marcus then took another look at the tiny corks in his left palm and thought, _"I'll have to thank the thoughtful soul who sent me these."_ As Ron started to take the letter from Errol's beak, Marcus shoved a cork in each ear as far as he could tolerate. He then braced for the worst as Ron slit it open and, despite having his ears plugged, still felt the blast of the roar of sound filling the huge hall, even shaking the dust from the ceiling.

 _ **"- STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE -"**_

Marcus surmised just as much that he would still be able to hear every word of the Howler. He saw Ron sinking so low that he could only the top of his hair and he didn't blame him in the slightest.

 _ **" - LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED -"**_

Marcus was putting every bit of his effort into blocking out as much sound as he could, which did little good when he was practically point-blank distance of the Howler.

 _ **" - ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED - YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."**_

It wasn't until the Howler burst into flames that Marcus took the tiny corks out of his ears, the high pitch ringing bouncing in his head.

Hermione closed _Voyages with Vampires_ and looked down at the top of Ron's head.

"Well, I don't know what you expected, Ron, but you -"

"Don't tell me I deserved it," snapped Ron.

"Ugh, my ears," said Marcus, who was still suffering from the Howler. "They're...still...ringing!"

He barely noticed that Professor McGonagall was moving along the Gryffindor table, handing out course schedules. Marcus took his and read that they had double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs first.

By the time the ringing had stopped, Harry, Marcus, Ron, and Hermione were already outside the castle, making their way to the greenhouses, where all the magical plants were kept. At least the Howler had done one good thing: Hermione seemed to think they had now been punished enough and was being perfectly friendly again to Harry and Ron. Marcus knew what he had to do.

He held Hermione back a little bit from Harry and Ron and said to her, "Hermione, about last night...well...I'm really sorry. I reacted rather horribly."

Hermione's expression softened a little and replied, "I forgive you, Marcus. And regarding Ms. Flamel?"

"I'll do my best to get over my fear," Marcus stated.

That seemed to please Hermione as her and Marcus rejoined Harry and Ron.

As they neared the greenhouses, they saw the rest of the class standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout. Harry, Ron, Marcus and Hermione had only just joined them when she came striding into view across the lawn, accompanied by Gilderoy Lockhart. Professor Sprout's arms were full of bandages, and Marcus noticed the Whomping Willow in the distance, several of its branches now in slings.

Professor Sprout was a squat little witch who wore a patched hat over her flyaway hair; there was usually a large amount of earth on her clothes and her fingernails were much dirtier than an average person's. Gilderoy Lockhart, however, was immaculate in sweeping robes of turquoise, his golden hair shining under a perfectly positioned turquoise hat with gold trimming.

"Oh, hello there!" he called, beaming around at the assembled students. "Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow! But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I just happen to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels..."

"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout, who was looking distinctly disgruntled, not at all her usual cheery self. This didn't surprise Marcus in the slightest. Merely being around the smiling idiot had a tendency to greatly wear out any sensible person's patience in a short amount of time.

There was a murmur of interest. They had only ever worked in greenhouse one before - greenhouse three housed far more interesting and dangerous plants. Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door. Marcus caught a whiff of damp earth and fertilizer mingling with the heavy perfume of some giant, umbrella-sized flowers dangling from the ceiling. Marcus and Harry were to follow Ron and Hermione inside when Lockhart's hand shot out.

"Harry! Marcus! I've been wanting a word - you don't mind if they're a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?"

Judging by Professor Sprout's scowl, she did mind, but Lockhart said, "That's the ticket," and closed the greenhouse door in her face.

"Harry," said Lockhart, his large white teeth gleaming in the sunlight as he shook his head. "Harry, Harry, Harry."

Marcus was very confused as to where Lockhart could possibly be going.

"When I heard - well, of course, it was all my fault. Could have kicked myself."

 _"Wait...he's not going to say what I think he's going to say, is he?"_ thought Marcus.

It looked like Harry was about to say something when Lockhart continued, "Don't know when I've been more shocked. Flying a car to Hogwarts! Well, of course, I knew at once why you'd done it. Stood out a mile. Harry, Harry, _Harry_."

Marcus's jaw dropped faster than a ton of bricks. _"Is he seriously going to take credit for the whole flying car incident?!"_ he thought.

"Gave you a taste for publicity, didn't I?" said Lockhart. "Gave you the _bug_. You and Marcus got onto the front page of the paper with me and you, Harry, couldn't wait to do it again."

"Oh, no, Professor, see -" Harry started to say.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," said Lockhart, reaching out and grasping his shoulder. _"I understand_. Natural to want a bit more once you've had that first taste - and I blame myself for giving you that, because it was bound to go to your head - but see here, young man, you can't start _flying cars_ to try and get yourself noticed. Just calm down, all right?"

He then looked to Marcus and said, "Take Marcus's example. He's almost as famous as you, yet he keeps his head down, like a good little boy." He then proceeded to touch the top of his head as a comforting gesture.

That was a grave mistake on Lockhart's part. Marcus went from surprised to pissed in less than a second and half-shouted, "Keep your hands off my hair!"

"Oh, my!" exclaimed Lockhart, immediately retracting his hand. "I should've known! You like to keep your hair a certain way, just like me! Well, no one understands keeping appearances quite like me, so I'm dreadfully sorry."

Marcus noticed the lack of remorse in his statement and half-wanted to shout at him that that was definitely NOT the case, but ultimately decided against it, due to not wanting to waste any breath.

"Now, where was I?" Lockhart thought out loud. "Ah, yes! There'll be plenty of time for all of that when you get older, Harry. Now, I know what you're thinking! 'It's all right for him, he's an internationally famous wizard already!' But when I was twelve, I was just as much of a nobody as you two are now. In fact, I'd say I was even more of a nobody! I mean, a few people have heard of you two, haven't they? All that business with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and the Dark Prince!" He glanced at the lightning scar on Harry's forehead and Marcus' hair. "I know, I know - it's not quite as good as winning _Witch Weekly's_ Most Charming-Smile Award five times in a row, as I have - but it's a start, Harry, it's a _start_."

He gave Harry and Marcus a hearty wink and strode off. Harry looked at Marcus and said, "So, about that business with your hair..."

Marcus, who was in a bad mood, said through gritted teeth, "Later, Harry," and walked into the greenhouse, leaving Harry to walk in after him.

Professor Sprout was standing behind a trestle bench in the center of the greenhouse. About twenty pairs of different-colored earmuffs were lying on the bench. When Marcus had took his place next to Hermione, she said, "We'll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"

To nobody's surprise, Hermione's hand was first into the air.

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," said Hermione, sounding as usual as though she had swallowed the textbook. "It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor," said Professor Sprout. "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

Marcus made sure to get his hand in the air before Hermione with this one. "The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it," he stated.

"Precisely, Williams. Take another ten points for Gryffindor," Professor Sprout said. "Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young."

She pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke, and everyone shuffled forward for a better look. A hundred or so tufty little plants, purplish green in color, were growing there in rows. Marcus recognized this particular plant from when he was younger, when he had the misfortune of stepping on one in someone's garden, and couldn't help but inch away from the plants a little bit.

"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs," said Professor Sprout.

Marcus immediately grabbed the nearest, non-pink earmuffs he could get his hands on.

"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are _completely_ covered," said Professor Sprout. "When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right - earmuffs _on_."

Marcus made sure to firmly place his earmuffs over his ears, waiting for Professor Sprout to continue. She proceeded to put her own pair of earmuffs on, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard.

Sure enough, the Mandrake looked just as he remembered: Small and human-shaped, like a baby...except it was extremely ugly. With its pale green, mottled skin, and leaves growing out of his head, it was bawling its eyes out, no doubt due to being unceremoniously yanked out of the flower pot.

Professor Sprout took a large plant pot from under the table and plunged the Mandrake into it, burying him in dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible. Professor Sprout dusted off her hands, gave them all the thumbs-up, and removed her own earmuffs.

"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet," she said calmly as though she'd just done nothing more exciting than uprooting weeds. "However, they _will_ knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up. Four to a tray - there is a large supply of pots here - compost in the sacks over there - and be careful of the Venomous Tentacula, it's teething."

She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long feelers that had been inching sneakily over her shoulder.

Harry, Ron, Marcus and Hermione took their spots at the tray and Marcus noticed someone familiar on his left: Justin Finch-Fletchley, someone that Marcus knew from somewhere, but couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley," he said brightley, shaking Marcus' hand. "Thank you for getting those bullies off my back last school year. It really means a lot to me, having someone famous caring for people like me."

He then looked to Harry and said, "Know who you are, of course, the famous Harry Potter..And you're Hermione Granger - always top in everything (Hermione beamed as she had her hand shaken too) - and Ron Weasley. Wasn't that your flying car?"

Marcus noticed the lack of smiling from Ron. Obviously, the Howler was still fresh on his mind.

"That Lockhart's something, isn't he?" said Justin happily as they began filling their plant pots with dragon dung compost. "Awfully brave chap. Have you read his books? I'd have died of fear if I'd been cornered in a telephone booth by a werewolf, but he stayed cool and - zap - just _fantastic_."

Marcus resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he thought, _"The only way Lockhart would ever be cornered is if it's screaming fangirls wanting his autograph."_

"My name was down for Eton, you know," Justin continued. "I can't tell you how glad I am I came here instead. Of course, Mother was slightly disappointed, but since I made her read Lockhart's books I think she's begun to see how useful it'll be to have a fully trained wizard in the family..."

They didn't have much to talk after that. Their earmuffs were back on and they needed to concentrate on the Mandrakes. Marcus noticed that, out of all the students in the class, he was the only one having a relatively easy time repotting the Mandrakes. This was due to the fact that he felt no sympathy for the photosynthetic whiners. He was putting them in the pots quicker than anyone else, which earned him a smile from Professor Sprout.

By the end of the class, however, he found himself sweaty and covered in dirt. He made his way back up to Gryffindor tower with the rest of the fellow Gryffindors, took a quick shower, and then hurried off to Transfiguration class.

Professor McGonagall's classes were always something of a challenge, and that was especially the case today when she told the whole class to turn a beetle into a button. He struggled at first, but then got the hang of it as he turned his beetle into a button by midway through class.

He noticed Harry having some problems with his beetle, but Ron was, by far, having the worst of problems. He had patched up his wand with some borrowed Spellotape, but it was definitely beyond repair. It kept crackling and sparking at odd moments, and every time Ron tried to transfigure his beetle, it engulfed him in thick gray smoke that smelled of rotten eggs. Because he wasn't able to see what he was doing, Ron accidentally squashed his beetle with his elbow and had to ask for a new one. Professor McGonagall, needless to say, wasn't pleased.

Marcus heard the bell ring and, even though everyone was leaving the classroom, he and Harry stuck to watch Ron make a spectacle out of his broken wand by whacking it furiously on the desk.

"Stupid - useless - thing -"

"Write home for another one," Harry suggested as the wand let off a volley of bangs like a firecracker.

"Oh, yeah, and get another Howler back," said Ron, stuffing the now hissing wand into his bag. _"It's your own fault your wand got snapped -"_

Remembering the Howler from this morning, Marcus held his head with his right hand as said, "Yeah, let's not do that."

They went down to lunch, where Ron's mood was not improved by Hermione's showing them the handful of perfect coat buttons she had produced in Transfiguration.

"What've we got this afternoon?" said Harry, hastily changing the subject.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione at once.

"Seriously?!" said Marcus. "Ugh, this day just went from bad to worse."

Hermione shot him a nasty look while Ron seized her schedule and said, " _Why_ have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"

Hermione snatched the schedule back, blushing furiously.

After the four of them finished lunch, they went outside into the overcast couryard. Hermione sat down on a stone step and buried her nose in _Voyages with Vampires_ again. Harry and Ron stood talking about Quidditch for several minutes while Marcus listened. He only became aware of someone watching them when he noticed a very small, mousy-haired boy he'd vaguely recognized at the Sorting Feast. He was holding what Marcus recognized as a Muggle camera, and the moment Harry and him looked at the boy, he went bright red.

"All right, Harry, Marcus? I'm - I'm Colin Creevey," he said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor, too. D'you think - would it be all right if - can I have a picture? Of the two of you?" he asked, raising the camera hopefully.

Marcus felt an awful chill up his spine as Harry repeated blankly, "A picture?"

"So I can prove I've met you and Marcus," said Colin Creevey eagerly, edging further forward. "I know all about you two. Everyone's told me." He looked at Harry and continued, "About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead." His eyes raked Harry's hairline before he looked at Marcus and said to him, "And how you were able to stop the Dark Prince when you were only five years old when no one else was able to." He took a breath before saying, "A boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll _move_." His face then got excited as he looked around and said, "It's _amazing_ here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So, I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be really good I had one of the two of you" - he looked imploringly at Harry and Marcus - "maybe your red-haired friend could take it and I could stand between you guys? And then, could you sign it?"

Before Marcus could reject Colin, he heard a loud and scathing voice cry out, _"Signed photos?_ You're giving out _signed photos_ , Potter, Williams?"

Marcus looked past Colin to find the last person he wanted to see, Draco Malfoy, flanked by his Hogwarts cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Everyone line up!" Malfoy roared to the crowd. "Harry Potter and Marcus Williams are giving out signed photos!"

"No, we're not," said Harry angrily, his fists clenching. "Shut up, Malfoy."

"You're just jealous," piped up Colin, whose entire body was about as thick as Crabbe's neck.

 _"Jealous?"_ said Malfoy, who didn't need to shout anymore: Half the courtyard was listening in, much to Marcus' displeasure. He looked further behind Malfoy to find an even worse sight for him: Lorelei Flamel, walking with what he was sure to be other first years, who stopped once she caught sight of him. He forced himself to focus his attention on Malfoy as he said, "Of what? I don't want a foul scar across my head or freak hair, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open or sporting hair of old men makes you that special, myself."

Crabbe and Goyle were sniggering stupidly.

Marcus couldn't hold himself back anymore as he retorted, "Neither does flaunting money and having grease for hair, Malfoy, but hey, whatever floats your boat, your worthless sack of flesh."

Everyone sounded out in surprise as Malfoy gave Marcus a death stare and said, "I'd watch what you say to me, Williams."

Marcus got real close to him as he said, "Why? Because of the fact that you're pure-blood? That's not going to stop me from punching your face clean into your head."

Crabbe and Goyle stopped laughing almost instantly and started to crack their knuckles in a menacing way.

Marcus heard Ron step up behind him, no doubt to try and back him up. Malfoy saw this and sneered, "Be careful, Weasley. You don't want to start any trouble or your mummy'll have to come and take you away from school." He put on a shrill, piercing voice. _"'If you put another toe out of line' -"_

A group of Slytherin fifth years nearby laughed loudly at this.

"Weasley would like a signed photo, boys," smirked Malfoy. "It'd be worth more than his family's whole house -"

Ron whipped out his Spelltaped wand while Marcus cocked back his left fist, but Hermione shut _Voyages with Vampires_ with a snap and whispered, "Look out!"

"What's all this, what's all this?"

Marcus felt the dread all over as he saw Gilderoy Lockhart making his way towards them, his turquoise robes swirling behind him. "Who's giving out signed photos?"

Marcus lowered his fist and tried to divert his attention to anywhere else except Lockhart, which failed the moment Lockhart put his arms around himself and Harry and thundered jovially, "Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry and Marcus!"

Unable to escape, Marcus felt fury and humiliation all over. It was bad enough that he had to run into Lockhart this morning, but for it to happen again in front of Malfoy? Complete and utter embarrasment.

"Come on then, Mr. Creevey," said Lockhart, beaming at Colin. "A triple portrait, can't do better than that, and we'll _all_ sign it for you."

Marcus saw Colin fumbling for his camera and was wishing he could just disintergrate it. As he took the picture, the bell rang signaling the start of afternoon classes.

"Off you go, move along there," Lockhart called to the crowd, and he set off back to the castle with Harry and Marcus, who wished in that moment for nothing more than to cast the Disillusionment Charm.

"A word to the wise, boys," said Lockhart paternally as they entered the building through a side door. "I covered up for you two back there with young Creevey - if he was photographing me, too, your schoolmates won't think you're setting yourselves up to much..."

Again, Marcus kept himself silent. It wouldn't do any good to try and say anything different.

He swept them down a corridor lined with staring students and up a staircase as he continued, "Let me just say that handing out signed pictures at this stage of your careers isn't sensible - looks a tad bigheaded, to be frank. There may well come a time when, like me, you'll always need to keep a stack handy wherever you go, boys, but" - he gave a little chortle - "I don't think the two of you are quite there yet."

They had reached Lockhart's classroom and had finally let go of the two of them. Marcus straightened his clothes and found a seat in the very back of the classroom, where he sat all of his worthless Lockhart books on the floor and thought, _"I hope that that day never comes."_

As the rest of class came clattering in, Marcus saw Hermione taking a seat next to him while Ron sat next to Harry.

"You could've fried an egg on your faces," said Ron. "You'd better hope Creevey doesn't meet Ginny, Harry, or they'll be starting a Harry Potter fan club."

"Shut up," snapped Harry.

"I don't think Ms. Flamel would object to having some more information on you, Marcus, by getting help from Colin," said Hermione with a rather odd grin on her face.

Marcus immediately rounded on her and said, "That's enough out of you, Hermione."

When everyone in the classroom took their seats, Lockhart cleared his throat loudy and silence fell. He reached forward, picked up Neville Longbottom's copy of _Travels with Trolls_ , and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.

"Me," he said, pointing at it and winking as well. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of _Witch Weekly's_ Most-Charming-Smile Award - but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by _smiling_ at her!"

Marcus facepalmed himself in agony over the lame attempt of a joke. Surely, he had better things to do than to listen to this idiot speak.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books - well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about - just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in -"

When he had handed out the test papers, he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes - start - _now_!"

Marcus turned over his own test papers and read:

 _1\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?_

 _2\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?_

 _3\. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?_

 _"This isn't a test, it's a freaking questionnaire!"_ thought Marcus, who looked over the entirety of the test and saw more of the same questions.

He then sighed and thought, _"Still, if this actually counts towards my grade in this class, I suppose I have no choice. I'll just have to fill in the right answers, against my better judgement."_

Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.

"Tut, tut - hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in _Year with the Yeti_. And a few of you need to read _Wanderings with Werewolves_ more carefully - I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic people - though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky!"

He gave the class another roguish wink. Marcus noticed Ron looking at Lockhart in disbelief and couldn't help but feel the same. It would be hard to believe that someone like this man would actually exist.

He also noticed Hermione looking quite happy when Lockhart continued, "...but Miss Hermione and Mister Williams knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions - very good! In fact" - he flipped both their papers over -"full marks! Miss Hermione Granger and Mister Marcus Williams, where are you?"

As Hermione raised a trembling hand, Marcus raised his rather lazily.

"Excellent!" beamed Lockhart. "Quite excellent! Take twenty points for Gryffindor! And so - to business -"

He bent down behind his desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto it.

This caught Marcus' attention. He focused his eyes until the sensation came to him and saw multiple little lights with wings moving in the cage. He noticed something familiar, but couldn't quite put his finger on it.

His eyes returned to normal as he heard, "Now - be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

Marcus found himself quite confused at this point. His curiosity was building up as Lockhart spoke in a soft voice, " I must ask you not to scream. It might provoke them."

Lockhart then whipped off the cover to reveal -

"Yes," he said dramatically. _"Freshly caught Cornish pixies_."

Marcus then remembered why they looked familiar and felt extremely uneasy.

Seamus Finnigan, however, wasn't able to control himself. He let out a snort of laughter that even Lockhart couldn't mistake for a scream of terror.

"Yes," he smiled at Seamus.

"Well, they're not - they're not very - _dangerous,_ are they?" Seamus choked.

"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at Seamus. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"

As the Cornish pixies started jabbering and rocketing around the cage, rattling the bars making bizarre faces, Marcus saw Lockhart come near the cage. _"There's no way he's going to do what I think he's going to do, is he?!"_ he thought.

"Right, then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage.

It was absolute chaos from the moment the pixies were released from the cage. Marcus brought back his enhanced vision as he saw the pixies do all sorts of crazy things in the classroom, but each time a pixie came near him, he merely looked at it and they immediately backed off. They were destroying the classroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino.

"Come on now - round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," Lockhart shouted.

He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed, " _Peskipiksi Pesternomi!_ "

It had absolutely no effect. Marcus watched as one of the pixies grabbed Lockhart's wand and tossed it out the window.

The bell rang and there was a mad rush toward the exit. In the relative calm that followed, Lockhart caught sight of Harry, Ron, Marcus, and Hermione, who were almost at the door, and said, "Well, I'll ask you four to just nip the rest of them back into their cage." He swept past them and shut the door quickly behind him.

"Can you _believe_ him?" roared Ron as one of the remaining pixies bit him painfully on the ear.

"Absolutely not!" yelled Marcus, who was twirling around, freezing pixies from all directions. "He's a complete idiot for bringing Cornish Pixies into a classroom in the first place! Just what was he _playing_ at?!"

"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," said Hermione, immobilizing two pixies at once with a clever Freezing Charm and stuffing them back into their cages.

" _Hands on?_ " said Harry, who was trying to grab a pixie dancing out of reach with its tongue out. "Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing -"

"Rubbish," said Hermione. "You've read his books - look at all those amazing things he's done -"

"He _says_ he's done," Ron and Marcus muttered.

* * *

Marcus was quite relieved to be back in the Room of Requirement after everything that happened. Finally, no vain, arrogant idiots or nusiances with cameras or troublesome bullies like Malfoy to deal with...just him and all the helpful books and Muggle workout equipment that the Room of Requirement provided.

"Before I get around to training, let's read those letters from this morning," said Marcus, who opened up the letter with the tiny corks and read:

 _Marcus,_

 _I've enclosed a pair of tiny corks for you. I have a feeling that your friend, Ron, will be receiving a Howler from his parents, especially considering that the inquiry against Mr. Weasley is less than pleasant. Believe me, it was no pleasure on my end to be in charge of it._

 _I hope that your first day back at Hogwarts is a good one. It might be hard with that idiot, Lockhart, being there, but do your best to not let him underneath your skin._

 _Let us know how it goes. I'll be looking forward to your response letter._

 _Love, Dad_

 _"It was a freaking disaster from the moment I got done working out this morning, no doubts there,"_ thought Marcus as he opened the next one:

 _Marcus,_

 _Congratulations. Once again, your predictions were right on the galleons and I've enclosed a statement for you to give to Gringotts. Also enclosed are the upcoming International Quidditch matches. If you like, please write down your predictions and send them back to me at your earliest convienence._

 _Mr. Thaddeus Booker_

"I'll get to that in a minute," said Marcus, who opened up the last letter:

 _Marcus,_

 _It's been a while, hasn't it, old Captain? We've all started our term at Salem Academy, and we all tried out for the Quidditch Team. Needless to say, all of us made it! The six of us made everyone else look like a joke, it was no contest!_

 _Hey, let us know how you're doing at Hogwarts, Marcus! You've got to tell us when you'll be trying out for your own Quidditch Team! I'm sure you're a shoo-in!_

 _Your Quidditch Camp Team_

Marcus just sighed and said, "I wish I could try out, but that's not happening at all."

He made sure to write all response letters before stretching and saying, "All right, Room, what's going to be the extra lesson for tonight?"

He saw a book slide off the bookshelf and onto the floor. He picked it up and read, "How to be duel ready: Extra preparations that can save your life." He looked it over quickly and said, "Well, well, I didn't know there were spells like these. Looks tricky, but not impossible."

He then closed the book and said, "Workout first, top-secret project next, and I'll round it out with taking a few leaves out of this book."

 **And that does it for this chapter! Please feel free to leave a review, tell me what you thought about it :) Until then, be on the lookout for the next chapter!**


	8. (08) Swearing and Mysteries Abound

**Disclaimer: No ownership of HP, save for OC's**

 **Here's...**

Chapter 8: Swearing and Mysteries Abound

 **Enjoy!**

The next few days for Marcus would turn out just as bad as the first one. If he wasn't dodging Gilderoy Lockhart, he was dodging Colin Creevey, who seemed to have memorized both Harry's and his schedule. It made his day to go up to the two of them and say, "All right, Harry, Marcus?" and to hear back, "Hello, Colin," back, no matter how deadpanned Marcus made his response out to be.

And then there was Lorelei Flamel.

Marcus was sure that she didn't mean to, but she kept appearing everywhere. It was if that foul pane of despair was going to keep haunting him, even long after its destruction. He had tried on a few different occassions to just swallow his fears and go talk to her, but every time he tried, he found himself getting cold feet and getting away from her as soon as possible.

Needless to say that Marcus was excited for the weekend. So excited, in fact, that Friday evening, he ate his small dinner as quick as he could and went up to the seventh floor to access the Room of Requirement for his evening workouts and self-studying.

* * *

Fred and George Weasley were sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, going over the plans for their next prank when a familiar voice said out loud, "This is a disaster!"

They looked across the table to find their Quidditch Captain, Oliver Wood, taking a seat across from them before slamming his head on the table.

"Gee, Fred," said George. "I think it's finally happened."

"That it has, George," said Fred. "Our dear Quidditch Captain has gone mad. One too many Bludger hits to the head, I reckon."

Wood picked his head up from the table to look at them and said, "McGonagall has just informed me that Alicia Spinnet moved to the U.S. over the summer. Something about her father taking a position in their Ministry of Magic."

"Oh, no," Fred said. "That's so unfortunate to hear."

"Truly, she was a beautiful flower surrounded by weeds," George stated.

"Don't be thick!" Wood half-shouted. "This means that the team is short one Chaser!"

Fred and George took a minute for this news to set in and, when it did, neither of them were surprised. Rather, they looked at each other and grinned.

"Actually, we'll be just fine, Wood," said George.

This statement caught Oliver Wood off so much that all he could say was, "Huh?"

"In fact, we've got everything covered, Wood," said Fred.

"If that's the case, show me your proof before dawn tomorrow morning," said Wood, skeptical of what Fred and George were saying. "The Quidditch Team will be in the Quidditch Tent next to the pitch."

Fred and George said nothing more as they exited the Great Hall.

As they were making their way up the stairs in the Entrance Hall, Fred looked to George and said, "You know this isn't going to be easy, right?"

"But, that's what makes all the more fun," George replied. "Come on, let's get to planning."

* * *

Marcus woke up around four that morning and got dressed to work out in the Room of Requirement. No sooner than he slipped on his last article of clothing did he sense something wasn't right. He enhanced his vision and looked to the staircase to find two familiar figures trying to tip-toe their way to the second year's bed chamber. Somehow, he had a feeling that they were there for him.

He quickly cast the Disillusionment Charm before the two intruders, Fred and George Weasley, entered the room.

He started to silently walk to the door they just entered when Marcus heard Fred whisper, "Blimey, Marcus isn't here. George, where do you think he went?"

He was about two feet away from the door when he heard George whisper, "I think he's right there."

All of a sudden, Marcus felt himself go rigid and started falling to the floor before being caught by the Twins and stuffed into a bag.

As one of the twins lifted both the Disillusionment Charm and what Marcus reasoned to be the Full-Body Bind spell on him, he heard Fred whisper, "Quick, get that one item. He'll need it."

Marcus heard some things being rustled around before he heard George whisper, "Got it! Let's go!"

He then heard them walking to somewhere and waited until Fred and George were talking in normal voices before asking, "Where are the two of you taking me? I actually had plans this morning."

"All in due time, old geezer," said Fred, who was carrying Marcus in the sack. "And no using your enhanced vision, either. It'll ruin the surprise."

"Like I'd even bother," said Marcus. The truth of the matter was that, enhanced vision or not, he wasn't able to see beyond the bag.

He then felt the air around him change. It could mean only one thing: That they were outside. But, how was that possible? They were at one of the highest points in the castle only 10 minutes ago!

In what seemed like no time, Marcus heard Fred say, "All right, go on ahead, George."

He heard George run on ahead before Fred said, "Trust me, Marcus, you'll be thanking me and George in no time."

Marcus was absolutely confused until he was unceremoniously dumped out of the bag and onto the ground.

He looked up and saw Harry, Fred, George, as well as Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, and Oliver Wood.

"Marcus, you know about Wood, right?" asked Fred. When he nodded, Fred looked at Wood and stated, "Meet the Gryffindor Team's newest Chaser: Marcus Williams."

Marcus was so shocked by this that he said rather stupidly, "Huh? What?!"

"Williams?" asked a very skeptical Wood. "Are you sure?"

"We're right on the Galleons here, Wood," said George. "He's got the right credentials and we've seen what he can do first hand. If you don't believe us, try him out."

As Marcus stood himself up, Wood approached him, still with a skeptical look on his face. He then said, "All right, Williams. Since Fred and George recommend you, we'll give you a tryout session. Do you have your own broomstick?"

"Right here," Fred said with a rather wide smile.

"Give me that!" said Marcus, who swiped his Nimbus 2000 from him. "And you should've told me you were taking me here, George."

"Perhaps, but where's the fun in that?" said George, who had a mischeivous smile.

As Marcus started to walk towards the pitch, Harry caught up with him and said, "When Wood said we're going to potentially have a new Chaser, I didn't think it was going to be you, Marcus."

"Neither did I," said Marcus who, despite the means used to get him in that position, couldn't help but smirk. "Thank Fred and George. Anyway, it's time I showed Wood what I can do."

"Good luck, Marcus," said Harry.

With that, Marcus got on his broomstick and took off into the air. It felt great to get back on the broomstick, with the wind rushing past his face, the way he turned his broomstick so masterfully.

"Well, this is promising," Marcus heard Wood say from below. Marcus saw Wood have a box full of what looked like Muggle soccer balls. "Let's see how your reaction and reflexes are."

He then tossed one soccer ball after the next, each at a different height, speed, and trajectory. And, one after the other, Marcus caught them with little to no difficulty. Compared to the things he had to do at the Quidditch Camp, this was a cakewalk.

"One last test, Williams!" shouted Wood as himself, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell took to the air. "I want you to see how well you work with our other Chasers as well as your scoring abilites."

This task was a bit difficult...at first. He spent the first five mintues getting a feel of how Johnson and Bell played as Chasers. Afterwards, he adapted to their playing style when it came to passing and, when he was in a position to score, shifted back into his own style to throw off Wood.

By the time Johnson, Bell, and himself scored eight goals on Wood, he flew over to Marcus and simply said, "Welcome to the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, Williams."

Marcus allowed himself a smirk to form on his face as he said, "I'm glad to be on it."

All of a sudden, Marcus heard the sound of clicking throughout the stadium. He looked for the source of it and, sure enough, he saw Colin Creevey taking a lot of pictures with his camera.

"What's going on?" said Wood, frowning, as he skimmed through the air towards Harry, Fred and George. As Marcus followed behind, he heard Wood continue to say, "Why's that first year taking pictures? I don't like it. He could be a Slytherin spy, trying to find out about our new training program."

"He's in Gryffindor," said Harry quickly.

"And the Slytherins don't need a spy, Oliver," said George.

"What makes you say that?" said Wood testily.

"Because they're here in person," said George, pointing.

Marcus looked down to where George was pointing and sure enough, several people in green clothes could be seen walking onto the field, broomsticks slung over their shoulders.

 _"Oh, this isn't going to be good, no matter what angle it's looked at,"_ thought Marcus.

"I don't believe it!" Wood hissed in outrage. "I booked the field for today! We'll see about this!"

Marcus flew after Wood, landing just a second after Wood's rather rough landing, after which the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain staggered a bit before regaining himself.

"Flint!" Wood bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

Marcus Flint was even larger than Wood. He had a look of trollish cunning on his face as he replied, "Plenty of room for all of us, Wood."

 _"Gryffindors and Slytherins sharing anything?"_ Marcus thought. He silently scoffed as he continued, _"Yeah, right."_

"But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"

"Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. _'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch Field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"_

"You've got a new Seeker?" said Wood, distracted. "Where?"

Marcus then saw, from behind the six large figures standing side by side, came a seventh, smaller boy that Marcus had no trouble recognizing: It was Draco Malfoy.

 _"Well, if things weren't bad before, they certainly are now,"_ thought Marcus.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" said Fred, looking at Malfoy with dislike.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

Marcus looked at the broomsticks all seven of them were holding and noticed, not surprised, were Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones.

Flint was about to speak further when Marcus cut in, saying, "Oh, woop-de-doo. Draco Malfoy joins the Quidditch Team and, suddenly, every green clad idiot gets shiny, brand new toys."

He then gave each and every one of them a death stare as he continued, "It still doesn't change anything. We're still going to embarrass you off the Quidditch field when the time comes."

Every Slytherin present gave Marcus death stares back at him as Draco stepped forward until he was a foot away from Marcus, trying to stare him down as he said in a menacing voice, "And just what do you mean by that, Williams?"

Marcus was about to speak his mind when he heard a familiar voice say, "What Marcus meant is that no one on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team had to _buy_ their way in."

Marcus looked to his left and saw that Hermione and Ron were standing amongst the Gryffindor Quidditch. He reasoned that they must've came down when the Slytherins came onto the Quidditch Field. She then said sharply, " _They_ got in on pure talent."

Marcus saw Malfoy's face flicker with rage for a split second before he spat, "No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood."

Marcus instantly punched Malfoy in the gut, sending him flying into the other Slytherins. In a rage, Marcus tried to get his hands on him, along with Fred and George Weasley, but they were held off by Marcus Flint, who was trying to shield Malfoy from them. Marcus heard shrieks of outrage from the girls, followed by Ron bellowing, "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" and saw him pointing his broken wand furiously under Flint's arm, directly at Malfoy.

At once, a loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backward onto the grass.

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" squealed Hermione.

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he gave an almighty belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap.

The Slytherin team were paralyzed with laughter. Flint was doubled up, hanging onto his broomstick for support. Malfoy was on all fours, banging the ground with his fist. The Gryffindors were gathered Ron, who kept belching large, glistening slugs...everyone except for Marcus, who just came up with an idea of his own.

 _"I think now is as good as time as any to test out the modifications I made on my left armguard,"_ thought Marcus.

He raised his voice in order to be heard as he said, "Well, Ron, that was a brilliant idea. It's a shame that your wand is broken. You might not be able to cast that spell..."

He then opened up his left hand, causing his wand that was magically resting at the bottom of his left armguard to shoot out to his left hand. Marcus grabbed his wand quickly to ensure that it didn't shoot off into the ground.

He then held it up, level to his face, which had an evil grin on it, as he finished, "...but I can!"

The effect was immediate: The Slytherins stopped laughing, replaced with looks of fear and terror.

"Let's see how much you like the taste of slugs!" yelled Marcus.

All of the Slytherins tried to escape to no avail. Marcus ran around them all, ensuring that he cast the spell on each and every one of them.

In no time, the Slytherin team was making their way off the field, spewing up slugs, no doubt trying to make their way to the Hospital Wing.

"Give my regards to Madam Pomfrey when you arrive!" yelled Marcus.

Each of the Gryffindors present were howling with laughter as Fred said, "Serves them right, the evil gits!"

Marcus looked around to try and find Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but all of them seemed to have disappeared.

"Hey, Fred, have you seen where Harry, Ron, and Hermione went off to?" asked Marcus.

"Harry and Hermione took Ron to Hagrid's Hut," said Fred.

"Right," said Marcus. "See you all later."

Marcus then made his way to Hagrid's Hut, feeling especially proud of what he did. He arrived to the hut, opening up the door in time to hear Hagrid say, "Better out than in. Get 'em all up, Ron."

Marcus saw Ron, bent over a large copper basin in front of them. Marcus approached him and said, "Hermione, what can we do to get rid of this?"

"I don't think there's anything to do except wait for it to stop," replied Hermione anxiously, watching Ron bend over the basin. "That's a difficult curse to work at the best of times, but with a broken wand -"

Hagrid was bustling around making them tea, His boarhound, Fang, was slobbering over Harry.

"What did Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?" Harry asked, scratching Fang's ears.

Marcus looked at Harry and said, "Wait, Lockhart was here?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "We had to duck behind some bushes to make sure we weren't seen by him."

Hagrid moved a half-plucked rooster off his scrubbled table to set down his teapot as he growled, "He was tryin' to give me advice on gettin' kelpies out of a well. Like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some banshee he banished. If one word of it was true, I'll eat my kettle."

Marcus was not surprised to hear Hagrid criticize Lockhart, especially considering the buffoon had a innate talent to irritate every sensible person around him. Hermione must've been surprised, however, because she spoke in a voice somewhat higher than usual, "I think you're being a bit unfair. Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the best man for the job -"

"He was the _on'y_ man for the job," said Hagrid, offering them a plate of treacle toffee, while Ron coughed squelchily into his basin. "An' I mean the _on'y_ one. Gettin' very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now. So tell me," said Hagrid, jerking his head to Ron. "Who was he tryin' ter curse?"

"Malfoy called Hermione something - it must've been really bad, because everyone went wild," Harry reasoned.

"It _was_ bad," said Ron hoarsely, emerging over the tabletop looking pale and sweaty. "Malfoy called her 'Mudblood,' Hagrid -"

Ron dived out of sight again as a fresh wave of slugs made their appearance. Hagrid looked outraged.

"He didn'!" he growled at Hermione.

"He did," she said. "But I don't know what it means. I could tell it was really rude, of course -"

Ron put his head back up, looking ready to talk, but Marcus cut him off, saying, "Ron, I don't mean to be rude, but you should probably do us all a favor and keep your head in the basin. I'll explain it to them."

Ron could only nod as he stuck his head back in the basin. Marcus took a deep breath to calm himself down before saying, "In the Wizarding World, the worst kind of insult one wizard can say to another is 'Mudblood'. That is, to say, a witch or wizard that was born from non-magic parents. There are some wizards that believe they're better than everyone else because they're what we refer to as pure-blood. The Malfoys are one such example."

Marcus took a second to let Ron burp out a few slugs before continued, "Now, of course, everyone else in the Wizarding World knows that it doesn't make any difference, whether you're pure-blood or not. Think of it this way: Neville's a pure-blood, but it would be a miracle if he was able to stand his cauldron the right way up."

"An' they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can' do," said Hagrid proudly, making Hermione go a brilliant shade of magenta.

"It's an appalling thing to call someone," said Marcus. "Saying 'Mudblood' to a witch or wizard is practically saying that they've dirtied their bloodline, or made it worthless. The notion is completely absurd; Most wizards nowadays are half-blood anyway. We would've gone extinct if witches and wizards hadn't married Muggles."

Hagrid looked to Ron, who continued to spew slugs, and said, "Well, I don' blame yeh fer tryin' ter curse him, Ron. Bu' maybe it was a good thing yer wand backfired. 'Spect Lucius Malfoy would've come marchin' up ter school if yeh'd cursed his son. Least yer not in trouble."

"Well, Lucius might just come marching up here anyway," said Marcus.

"What makes you say that?" asked Harry.

"Because I cursed Malfoy and the rest of Slytherin Quidditch Team with the same spell that backfired on Ron," Marcus explained.

"Oh, Marcus, you'll get into trouble!" Hermione exclaimed.

"I don't really care," Marcus told her. "They've had it coming for a while now. It's about time someone put them in their place."

"Harry," said Hagrid abruptly as though struck by a sudden thought. "Gotta bone ter pick with yeh. I've heard you've bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?"

Marcus allowed himself to smirk as he saw Harry wrench his teeth apart from the treacle tart earlier and said hotly, "I have _not_ been giving out signed photos! If Lockhart's still spreading that around -"

Hagrid then started to laugh and said, "I'm on'y joking. I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Lockhart you and Marcus are more famous than him without tryin'."

"Bet he didn't like that," said Harry, sitting up and rubbing his chin.

"Don' think he did," said Hagrid, his eyes twinkling. "An' then I told him I'd never read one o' his books an' he decided ter go. Treacle toffee, Ron?" he added as Ron finally reappeared.

"No thanks," said Ron weakly, "Better not risk it."

"Come an' see what I've bin growin'," said Hagrid as Marcus, Harry, and Hermione finished the last of the tea.

In the small vegetable patch behind Hagrid's house were a dozen of the largest pumpkins Marcus had ever seen. Each one was around the size of a large boulder.

"Gettin' on well, aren't they?" said Hagrid happily. "Fer the Halloween feast...should be big enough by then."

"What've you been feeding them?" said Harry.

Hagrid looked over his shoulder to check that they were alone before replying, "Well, I've bin givin' them - you know - a bit o' help -"

Marcus looked over to see Hagrid's flowery pink umbrella leaning against the back wall of the cabin. Marcus strongly suspected that the remains of Hagrid's wand were within this very girly umbrella. Of course, Hagrid wasn't allowed to use magic, due to him being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year. Hagrid never told Marcus or the others why, though. He tried to get it out of him, of course, but each time he tried, Hagrid would clear his throat loudly and became mysteriously deaf until the subject was changed.

"An Engorgement Charm, I suppose?" said Hermione, halfway between disapproval and amusement. "Well, you've done a good job on them."

"That's what yer little sister said," said Hagrid, nodding at Ron. "Met her jus' yesterday." Marcus noticed Hagrid looking sideways at Harry, his beard twitching. "Said she was jus' lookin' round the grounds, but I reckon she was hopin' she might run inter someone else at my house." He winked at Harry before continuing, "If yeh ask me, _she_ wouldn' say no ter a signed-"

"Oh, shut up," said Harry.

Marcus smirked at this until Hagrid continued, "I also met another redhead shortly afterwards. A kind, little girl she was. What was her name again?...Ah, yes! It was Lorelei Flamel."

Marcus's insides immediately iced up upon hearing this. He turned to look at Hagrid and said, "Oh, really?"

"We actually had a nice chat over sum tea," Hagrid said, his beard twitching. "Asked a lot of question about you, Marcus."

"And what exactly did you tell her?" Marcus asked through gritted teeth, his anger rising.

Hagrid then dawned an unusually mischevious smile as he replied, "Oh, not much. Jus' exactly what she wanted ter know."

"You traitor," said Marcus as he turned his head away from Hagrid.

Ron, amused with Hagrid's antics, snorted with laughter and the ground was sprayed with slugs.

"Watch it!" Hagrid roared, pulling Ron away from his precious pumpkins.

* * *

It was nearly lunchtime and, considering he wasn't able to get any breakfast and he refused Hagrid's treacle tarts, he found himself feeling hungry and keen on going back up to the castle. The four of them said good-bye to Hagrid and walked back up to the castle, Ron hiccoughing occasionally, but only bringing up two very small slugs.

They had barely set a foot in when a familiar, but unwanted voice said, "There you are, Mr. Williams."

Marcus looked up to find Professor Snape standing there, waiting for Marcus, no doubt.

Snape walked towards Marcus until he was only five feet away and said, "I've been informed that, earlier this morning, Mr. Malfoy and the Slytherin Quidditch Team were admitted into the Hospital Wing, spewing slugs along the way."

Marcus knew this was coming. He wasted no time and said, "Yeah, I'm the one that caused that."

Snape bent down to Marcus's height and said in a low voice, "Explain yourself."

"Malfoy called Hermione a 'Mudblood'," said Marcus. "And the Slytherins were intentionally disrupting the Gryffindor's Quiddtich practice. I figured they deserved adequete punishment."

"That decision is not yours to make, Williams," said Snape in the same low voice from before.

It was in this moment that Marcus couldn't take it anymore. Between all of the shenanignas Lockhart and Creevey were causing and the rigors of keeping up his schoolwork and self-training on top of this, he just snapped.

"You're right, it's not my decision," he half-shouted. He pointed a finger at Snape's chest as he continued shouting, "That decision is yours! But, funny, I never see the Slytherins get punished by you! And, quite frankly, I'm sick and tired of seeing the Slytherins getting special treatment while everyone else gets treated differently! Maybe if the Slytherin's Head of House wasn't sitting on his ass and being a complete prat, this wouldn't be happening! So, what are you going to do about it, you GREASY-HAIRED GIT?!"

At Marcus's last words, everyone that was present in the entrance hall gasped and looked in Marcus's direction. It felt good to get all that pent-up anger out of his system, but he knew he took it too far when he called Snape a greasy-haired git.

Which was evident the moment Snape's face bypassed angry and went straight to livid.

"Two hundred points will be taken from Gryffindor House for your actions and lack of respect, Mr. Williams," said Snape in a low, now menacing voice. "And you earned yourself a detention."

And, with that, Snape straightened himself and hurried off to the dungeons before anything else could happen.

"Well, that could've gone better," said Marcus.

"Marcus, what were you thinking?!" said Hermione, incredulous. "Yelling like that at a teacher!"

"Yeah, to be honest, I don't think I was really thinking when I did that," Marcus said.

He looked to Harry and Ron, who were absolutely stunned with Marcus and for good reason: No one, as far as anyone could remember, talked to or back at Professor Snape the way Marcus just did. No doubt that talk was going to spread throughout the school, if it hadn't done so already.

Just then, they heard another familiar voice saying, "There you are, Potter - Weasley."

They looked to the staircase to see Professor McGonagall walking towards them, looking stern. "You will both do your detentions this evening."

"What're we doing, Professor?" said Ron, nervously suppressing a burp.

" _You_ will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr. Filch," said Professor McGonagall. "And no magic, Weasley - elbow grease."

Ron gulped. Argus Filch was possibly the only person that was loathed by every student in the school, more so than Snape.

"And you, Potter, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail," said Professor McGonagall.

"Oh, n- Professor, can't I go and do the trophy room, too?" said Harry desperately.

"Certainly not," said Professor McGonagall, raising her eyebrows. "Professor Lockhart requested you particularly."

Marcus started walking towards the Great Hall, but didn't take more than two steps when he heard Professor McGonagall say, "And where do you think you're going, Williams?"

He turned around to look at her and said, "The Great Hall?"

"Word has reached my ears that you earned detention by violently talking back to Professor Snape," said Professor McGonagall. "Is this true?"

 _"Damn, word gets around quick,"_ thought Marcus as he said, "Yes, Professor."

Professor McGonagall's lips grew so thin, Marcus swore they disappeared entirely. "It would behoove you in the future, Mr. Williams, to know when to refrain from speaking."

"Yes, Professor," said Marcus.

"Regardless, for better or worse, your timing is impeccable," she continued. "Madam Pince has been looking for someone to reorganize the books on the shelves in the Library. I'll inform her immediately that you'll be taking this task as your detention, Mr. Williams."

She then looked at all three boys and said, "Eight o'clock, all of you."

Harry and Ron slouched into the Great Hall in states of deepest gloom, Marcus walking with a spring in his step until Hermione gave him a stare worthy of Professor McGonagall. She was also wearing a _well-you-did-break-school-rules_ kind of expression, which didn't sit well with Marcus.

As the four of them sat down at the Gryffindor Table to eat their dinner, Ron said rather heavily, "Filch'll have me there all night. No magic! There must be about a hundred cups in that room. I'm no good at Muggle cleaning."

"I'd swap anytime," said Harry hollowly. "I've had loads of practice with the Dursleys. Answering Lockhart's fan mail...he'll be a nightmare..."

"Well, organizing the books in the Library will be a cakewalk," said Marcus. "I might even have a bit of fun doing it."

He looked over to Harry and Ron, who were giving him death stares and he immediately took Professor McGonagall's advice and concentrated on eating his shepard's pie.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon seemed to have melted away and, before he knew it, Marcus noticed that it was quarter to eight. He made this way down the floors of the castle, grateful that he was able to squeeze his workout/self-training in beforehand.

When he opened up one of the doors to the Library, Marcus said, "Hello? Is anyone here?"

He looked around to not find anyone.

"Well, this is awfully wierd, not seeing a person in the Library," Marcus said out loud.

Right then, he heard a voice say out of nowhere, "I've been waiting for you."

Marcus yelped and quickly turned around to find Madam Pinch, who was standing over him like an overgrown bat.

"Ah, Madam Pince," said Marcus in a nervous voice. "I didn't see you there."

"Come, there's no time to waste," said Madam Pince, who started walking.

Marcus followed her until she stopped in front of a large set of bookshelves and Madam Pince said, "You'll start here, in the History Section. I want them organized by date of publication on each shelf and work your way to the Educational Books section down there."

She pointed twently bookshelves down to Marcus's right and Marcus gulped.

"And no magic will be necessary, Mr. Williams," said Madam Pince.

He looked up to the top of the bookshelves, which were twenty feet high each, then looked back at Madam Pince and asked, "And how in the world am I supposed to organize the books at the top shelves?!"

She formed a rather nasty grin on her face as she replied, "You'll have to figure that one out on your own."

As soon as she was out of hearing distance, Marcus muttered to herself, "Sadist wench."

He then sighed and said, "Well, let's get started."

* * *

 **Three hours and fourty five minutes later...**

Marcus struggled to make his way over to Madam Pinch's desk in the library. When he made it, he looked at her and said, "I'm all finished, Madam Pince."

Madam Pince looked up at Marcus and said, "Well, I must say, I'm rather impressed. No one's been able to organize all those shelves in as little time as you did."

"Thank you, Madam Pince," said Marcus.

"You're free to go," she said. "Please feel free to serve your detentions here at anytime."

 _"Yeah, that's a no,"_ thought Marcus as he started walking out of the Library.

Each step he took towards going to the Gryffindor common room was worse than the last. Each muscle on his body was severely aching all over. No amount of physical workouts in the world could ever prepare a student for such labor, Marcus reasoned.

Then, it happened.

Right around reaching the sixth floor, Marcus's eyes suddenly intensifed in pain. So much so that it brought him to his knees, making him want to cry. He forced himself to open his eyes and what he saw surprised him.

He could see every small detail around him with clarity. However, it was as if the world of color completely vanished, replaced with wierd tones and shades that Marcus had never seen in his entire life. But, what surprised him the most was the walls.

Looking down a few floors, he could see for a split second a completely black, enormous cyndrilical shape making it's way through the castle walls.

Horrified at what he saw, he took off, running full speed for the portrait of the Fat Lady, half-shouted the password, and entered the common room.

Upon reaching the common room, the horrible pain in his eyes suddenly stopped, and he could see normally again.

 _"What in the world just happened?!"_ thought Marcus. _"My eyes have never done that before! And just what was that horrifying shape in the walls?!"_

Just then, he heard the portrait swing open and he saw Harry making his way in the common room.

"Harry, thank goodness you're here!" Marcus said to him. "Someone beyond weird just happened to me!"

Harry looked at Marcus and said, "Me too! You won't believe what happened with me!

"Let's wait for Ron to come back from his detention," said Marcus as Harry and him made their way up to the domitories. "Then, we'll tell him what we each experienced."

They eached changed into their pajamas, gone into their beds, and waited. It was a half an hour before Ron showed up, nursing his right arm and making the darkened room reek strongly of polish.

"My muscles have all seized up," he groaned, sinking on his bed. "Fourteen times he made me buff up that Quidditch Cup before he was satisfied. And then I had another slug attack all over a Special Award for Services to the School. Took ages to get the slime off...How was it with Lockhart and Pinch?"

Keeping their voices low so as not to wake Neville, Dean, and Seamus, Harry and Marcus told Ron exactly what was seen and heard.

"And Lockhart said he couldn't hear it?" said Ron. Marcus could see Ron frowning in the moonlight. "D'you think he was lying? But I don't get it - even someone invisible would've had to open the door."

"I know," said Harry, who was lying back in his four-poster and staring at the canopy above him. "I don't get it either."

"And you said your eyes have never done that to you before, Marcus?" Ron asked him.

"Yes, that's right," said Marcus.

"Perhaps it was a warning," suggested Ron.

"That actually makes sense," said Marcus. "But, if that's the case, what was it that they were trying to warn me about?"

He then rubbed his left temple as he continued, "Regardless, I'll get to the bottom of this. I can't simply ignore something this bizarre."

He then covered himself with the blanket, rested his head on his pillow, and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Marcus, once again, found himself in the Dark Prince's room in Azkaban, the Dark Prince himself sitting against a wall, with a look of thought on his face.

"Ah, so that's who is in possession of it," said the Dark Prince out loud. He put his left index finger to his left temple as he continued, "Ah, now this is a bit unusual. A strong-minded person like this is always a rare find. However, I also sense some emotional weakness, perhaps some naiveity mixed in, as well. Well, this is a rather exciting challenge. And it looks like things are already starting to unravel. Perhaps I'll give it one final push so that things can get even more interesting."

He then saw the Dark Prince using some sort of wandless magic unknown to Marcus and, by the looks of things, he had to exert an unusual amount of mental effort.

"Ah, there we go, all finished," said the Dark Prince. "The seeds have been planted. Now, all that's left to do is to sit back and watch those very seeds grow."

He then chuckled, the echoes bouncing around his cell as everything faded into darkness.


	9. (09) Frights and Scares

**Welcome to the next chapter of HP: The Secret Path! Before this ball gets rolling, there's this little detail...**

 **Disclaimer: No ownership of HP except for OC's**

 **Now, here's**

Chapter 9: Frights and Scares

 **Enjoy!**

That next morning, Marcus found himself very much unnerved. There were a lot of things that seemed to have happened and absolutely no way to make head or tails of it. As he was getting ready to go to the Room of Requirement for his morning workout/self-training, he was confused and in desperate need of some answers.

But, before he could make his way out of the common room, he had the unfortunate pleasure of running into Colin Creevey once again.

"Look, look, Marcus!" said Colin, who was holding up a colored picture of the castle. "Isn't it good?! I actually got it with the first shot!"

"Um, that's very nice, Colin," said Marcus, not wanting to be rude.

Colin then started to tilt the picture at different angles as he said, "I do hope that it doesn't get damaged. When I send it to my parents for them to see it, that is."

Marcus was about to come up with another auto-answer when he saw it: That same familiar view from last night.

"Wait, Colin!" said Marcus. "What's that?"

"What, the castle?" asked a confused Colin.

"No, no, not that," said Marcus. He started tilting the picture in different ways, trying to get that same view again. It wasn't until he tilt the picture back far enough to be almost perpendicular with his body did he get that same view. He pointed at it to make sure Colin Creevey saw it and said, "That right there. What's that?"

"Oh, that!" Colin Creevey said, understanding what Marcus was referring to. "That's what photographers call a 'negative image'."

"A negative image?" Marcus asked, utterly confused.

"Well, see, there's the positive image, the one that people see all the time. But, when the photo is completely inverted is when the negative image appears, which on normal photos can't be seen unless you view it at certain angles. Does that help?" asked Colin.

"Yes, actually," said Marcus. "Listen, I've got to take of some urgent business, but thank you for the help, Colin."

The look on Colin's face was like Christmas came early as he squealed, "I was able to help the great Marcus Williams! This is the best day ever!"

Colin then ran up to the direction of the boy's dormitories as Marcus walked out of the common room, saying out loud, "You've helped me more than you realized..."

When he finally made it to the Room of Requirement, he started walking around the room, thinking out loud.

"So, whatever the cause last night, my eyes acted on their own, flaring up in power...which really freaking hurt." He rubbed the sides of his eyes, still remembering the pain. "But, that vision...well, I guess I'll call it 'Negative Vision'...allowed me to see everything clearly! However, what was that shape in the wall? A pipe, maybe? No, that can't be it, it actually moved." He punched the wall in irritation as he yelled, "Ugh, this is annoying! I have nothing to go off of!"

He took a deep breath before continuing, "And Harry hearing that voice when Lockhart couldn't hear it...well, that's certainly not normal. Once again, there's nothing to go off of. I'll need to gather more clues before I can make any kind of headway."

He then sighed as he said, "Oh, well, might as well sit down and write out a few necessary letters."

He took the first parchment and wrote out the following:

 _Edwards,_

 _Well, you guys wanted me to let you know when I made the House Quidditch Team. So, through odd circumstances, I made it as a starting Chaser! It didn't take too long to convince the Captain that I had what it took to be on the team. I'm not sure what happened with Alicia Spinnet, though. Wood vaguely mentioned her moving to the U.S., but he didn't have anything else to say about it._

 _The first match will be against Slytherin, but it won't be for a while yet, so it'll be a perfect time to fine-tune anything I need to work on before the match._

 _You guys do your best out there on the Quidditch Field, all right? And don't ever give up, ever._

 _-Marcus Williams_

"Well, one letter down, two to go," said Marcus as he got out the next bit of parchment and wrote:

 _Mr. Booker,_

 _I would like to place some bets on the upcoming International Quidditch matches._

 _U.S - 350, England - 100, 75 Galleons  
Japan - 170, Australia - 60, 50 Galleons  
Hungary - 240, Egypt - 110, 50 Galleons  
China - 270, Norway - 200, 50 Galleons_

 _Please reply when you receive this letter._

 _-Marcus Williams_

"And last, but not least, one to my parents," said Marcus, who got out his final bit of parchment and wrote:

 _Mom, Dad,_

 _Well, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that I'm now on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team as a Chaser. The bad news is that I blew up at Professor Snape and lost 200 points for Gryffindor on top of receiving detention. Yes, other than becoming the House's new Chaser, the week was that bad. Well, now I'll need that custom-made Nimbus 2001 from the house, because Draco Malfoy joined the team and his father was "kind" enough to give everyone on the Slytherin Quidditch Team Nimbus 2001s of their own. Personally, I don't want them to have that big of an advantage. I'll be sure to keep you up to date if anything else should happen._

 _-Marcus Williams_

He wanted to tell him what had happened the night before, but considering it only happened once and it was only for a brief timeframe, he decided against it, at least for now.

Marcus sighed as he put the parchments into their respective envelopes. He received a mixed reaction amongst the students at Hogwarts in regards to his blowing up at Snape. Those that were a stickler for the rules and earning points for their House looked at him with disdain and disgust. He couldn't blame them, though. For him to turn around and lose 200 points at the beginning of the year was definitely not looked well upon. Those that hated Snape, that is to say most of the student body, definitely looked at him like a kind of hero. Marcus certainly didn't feel like a hero because of that. Rather, he felt more like an idiot.

Regardless, the deed had been done, and now there was nothing for it but to put it behind him and move forward.

"Now that I've done my bit of letter writing for the day, let's get to working out and self-training," said Marcus with a smirk on his face as he looked at the Muggle workout machines and books for his self-training.

* * *

Once he entered the common room, making sure no one was present, he lifted the Disillusionment Charm and said out loud, "Well, today's workout/self-training was really excellent. Now, I just have to shower up and get that History of Magic assignment out of the way. I only have to finish six more inches, after all. That should be easy."

When he came down after the shower, with his History of Magic book and parchment under his right arm, he found an unusual sight: It was Ron, working on schoolwork.

"Hey, Ron," said Marcus. "Are you actually working on schoolwork?"

Ron looked up to see Marcus and replied, "Well, yeah. Mind, I don't really want to, but seeing as it's due tomorrow, I figured I'd at least try."

"Well, it looks like we're working on the same assignment, so we'll do it together," said Marcus as he took a seat next to Ron.

Normally, Ron would be pretty talkative whenever they did their homework together. However, this time, Ron was pretty silent, which wasn't like him at all.

"Well, that should about do it," said Marcus, who rolled up his parchment. He looked at Ron and said, "All right, Ron, what's going on? You've been acting weird this entire time."

Ron shifted uncomfortably as he said, "Well, it's...um...it's about Lorelei."

That same, familiar icy feeling overcame him as he asked, "What about her?"

"Well, see, we ran into each other by accident," said Ron. "I wasn't watching where I was going. Anyway, she and I ended up talking for a bit and it turns out that she's really nice and kind. She asked me a lot of questions about you, though."

"And what did you tell her?" said Marcus, his low getting dangerously low.

Ron's voice came across rather high as he responded, "Well, I told her that you do workouts and self-training in secret, amongst other things."

"Seriously?!" said Marcus, his anger flaring up.

"Look, mate, I understand how you feel about that mirror business," said Ron quickly. "Really, I do. It freaked me out as much as it freaked you out. And I would be going mad if something I saw in that mirror just showed up out of nowhere. But, after talking to her...I don't know, Marcus. I just have the feeling that, once you start talking to her, your fear of that mirror will go away."

"I don't fear the mirror!" said Marcus, getting defensive.

"Don't give me that, Marcus!" Ron exclaimed. "It's obvious you did, that you still do. Look, the next chance you have, try talking to her. You won't regret it, I promise."

Marcus took a deep breath, sighed, and said, "You're right, Ron: I have to try and get over this eventually. After all, I destroyed the mirror. It's not like it'll come back. Say, where's Harry?"

"Last time I checked, he was at the Great Hall, getting some breakfast," said Ron.

"Well, let's hurry up and catch him," said Marcus.

With that, they gathered their things and headed for the Great Hall.

* * *

As the weeks rolled by, Marcus continued to be vigilant with his schoolwork and self-training. In that regard, he took a few strides forwards. But, it's been normal otherwise. Since that night of mystery, there hadn't been any weird events, which meant there was nothing to help him solve the mystery of the cold, chilling voice that only Harry could hear or that enormous, black cyndrilical object he saw for the briefest of a second.

And, now, October had arrived, which meant a damp chill was spreading onto the grounds and into the castle. Madam Pomfrey, of course, was quite busy taking care of students and staff that suddenly found themselves with colds. Her Pepperup Potion worked instantly, but it left her drinkers smoking at the ears for several hours afterwards. One such example was Ginny Weasley, who was bullied by Percy to take some when she looked pale. When the steam came pouring from under her vivid hair, it gave off the impression that her whole head was on fire.

The weather was also not as well off as the student were: For days on end, raindrops the size of bullets kept thundering down on the castle windows and the grounds. The lake was starting to rise, the flower beds were turned into muddy streams, and Hagrid's pumpkins ended up swelling to the size of garden sheds. The only thing in or on Hogwarts that the weather didn't seem to negatively affect was Oliver Wood's enthusiasm for regular training sessions, the results of which left Marcus and Harry finding themselves drenched to the skin, splattered with mud coming back from Quiddtich practice one stormy afternoon, a few days before Halloween.

Bad weather or not, it hadn't been a particularly happy practice session. When Fred and George reported on what they seen from the Slytherins, it was just as Marcus feared: That the Slytherin Team was no more than seven greenish blurs, shooting through the air like missiles. Despite having requested his parents to send him his own custom-made Nimbus 2001 from the house, he had still yet to receive it. The only thing he could think of was that his parents were out of country, taking care of business in some other country's Ministry of Magic, and that they were in no position to do what Marcus needed to have happened.

He made his way up to Gryffindor Tower, showered, got changed, and went down to the common room to find Hermione and Ron sitting near the fire.

"Hey, there," said Marcus. "What are you guys doing?"

"Potions homework," said Ron grumpily. It was clear that Ron would be doing anything else than Potions homework, but since Hermione was basically breathing down his neck, making sure he was doing it, Ron had no choice.

"Oh, that assignment on the Limb Regrowth Potion?" Marcus asked. When Hermione nodded her head, Marcus stated, "I didn't think the assignment was all that bad. At least the ingredients aren't too hard to memorize."

"That's because you and Hermione are know-it-alls," Ron said rather harshley. "For those of us that are normal, it's a bloody pain in the neck!"

"Oh, Ron, simmer down," said Hermione. "And it's three lionfish scales, not five. That would make the potion too poisonous to drink."

As Ron grumbled further, correcting the mistake he made, Hermione looked at him and said, "So, Marcus, have you made any progess with your problems?"

"Well, I wouldn't call that Potions homework a problem," said Marcus. "Rather, it was a breeze."

"I'm not talking about homework, Marcus," said Hermione. "I'm talking about Ms. Flamel."

"Oh," said Marcus, who started to feel uncomfortable. "Well, about that...that is, I mean..." He looked away from Hermione and responded, "No, I haven't."

"Marcus!" Hermione scolded. "You mean to say you've been completely ignoring her?!"

"Hey, that's not true!" Marcus retaliated, looking back at Hermione. "I've actually made quite a number of attempts!"

"Attempts?" asked Hermione, still looking at Marcus like Professor McGongall would if he got into trouble.

"Well, it's just that she's either been surrounded by her friends or I had to go somewhere else on urgent business," Marcus explained.

"To where, wherever your cold feet could take you?" Ron asked with that grumpy attitude of his.

"Okay, you can just shut it," Marcus told Ron, giving his redheaded friend a dirty look.

"Now, look here, Marcus," Hermione started to say but, in that moment, Harry entered the common room, still being soaked to the bone from Gryffindor's Quidditch Practice.

"There you are, Harry," Marcus said, effectively cutting Hermione off. "Where've you been? Practice has been over for a while now."

"Let me get changed first," Harry said, almost in a rush.

It took Harry little to no time to get back to the common room and Marcus, Ron, and Hermione were all ears as Harry told them about his run-in with Nearly Headless Nick, Filch, and all four of them having been invited to his Deathday Party.

"A deathday party?" said Hermione keenly. "I bet there aren't many living people who can say they've been to one of those - it'll be fascinating!"

"Why would anyone want to celebrate the day they died?" said Ron, still working on his Potions homework and still having a grumpy attitude. "Sounds dead depressing to me..."

"I guess, but think of all the things the ghosts could tell you," said Marcus. "That's definitely a much more interesting angle than reading about history through books."

* * *

Despite the rain still lashing on the now inky black windows, the inside looked bright and cheerful. The firelight glowed over the countless squashy armchairs that were occupied by people that were reading, talking, doing homework or, in the Weasley Twin's case, trying to figure out the results of feeding a salamander a Filibuster firework. According to Fred, he had "rescued" the brilliantly orange, fire-dwelling lizard from a Care of Magical Creatures class. Marcus knew better than to believe him, as he had the feeling they up and stole it. Regardless, it made it quite interesting, especially considering it was surrounded by a group of curious people who were watching it gently smoldering on a table.

Marcus looked at Harry, who looked as if he wanted to tell them more, but what it was, he never found out. In that moment, Marcus heard a whizzing noise in the air, in which it was the salamander emitting loud sparks and bangs as it whirled wildly around the room. It was quite a sight to behold. The spectacular display of tangerine stars showering from the salamander's mouth, its escape into the fire accompanied by explosions, and Percy bellowing himself hoarse at Fred and George. It made Marcus wonder just how was it that Fred and George didn't get in trouble more often.

In what seemed like no time at all, Halloween had arrived, which would normally mean going to the Halloween Feast. However, because he happened to be one of Harry's friends, it meant that he was going to go to Nicholas's Deathday Party instead and, despite whatever he told Harry, Ron, and Hermione about the party, he really wished he didn't have to go. Still, he made sure to get his filling of food beforehand because he had a strong suspicion that a ghost party wouldn't exactly cater to living people.

Marcus happened to look into the Great Hall earlier that afternoon and immediately wished he hadn't: The Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live bats, Hagrid's vast pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three men to sit in, and he even heard rumors of Dumbldedore booking a troupe of dancing skeletons for the entertainment, though whether that was credible or not had yet to be seen.

"Remind me again how we get ourselves into these situations?" Marcus asked the other three.

"Because Harry just does things without thinking things through, that's why," said Ron, who clearly shared the same sentiments as Marcus did.

Harry looked at the Great Hall in longing. "A promise is a promise," Hermione reminded him bossily when she saw Harry look inside. "You _said_ you'd go to the deathday party."

So, rather reluctantly, at seven o'clock, Harry, Ron, Marcus, and Hermione walked straight past the doorway to the packed Great Hall, which was glittering invitingly with gold plates and candles, and directed their steps instead toward the dungeons.

Like the Halloween Feast, the passageway leading to Nearly Headless Nick's party had been lined with candles, though the effect it had was far from cheerful: The candles in question were long, thin, jet-black tapers, lit with bright blue flames, which casted a dim, ghostly light even over their own faces. With each step they took, the temperature seemed to get lower and lower. Marcus started to feel chilly when he heard the sound of what seemed like a thousand fingernails scraping an enormous blackboard echoing through the passageway.

"Is that supposed to be _music?_ " Ron whispered.

"Definitely not," Marcus whispered. "That was the sound of horror and despair. How fitting."

"Quiet!" Hermione hissed as the four of them turned a corner and saw Nearly Headless Nick standing at a doorway hung with black velvet drapes.

"My dear friends," he said mournfully. "Welcome, welcome...so pleased you could come..."

He swept off his plumed hat and bowed them inside.

Marcus had to stifle his gasp at what he was seeing. Hundreds of pearly-white, translucent people were occupying the dungeon. Most of them were drifting around a crowded dance floor, waltzing to the dreadful, quavering sound of thirty musical saws, played by an orchestra on a raised, black-draped platform. Marcus looked overhead to find a chandelier blazing midnight blue with a thousand more black candles. Each time they breathed, it mist right before their eyes. It reminded Marcus of stepping into a walk-in freezer.

"Shall we have a look around?" Harry suggested.

"Careful not to walk through anyone," said Ron nervously.

As they started walking around the edge of the dance floor, Marcus thought, _"Yeah, that's going to be next to impossible."_ They passed a group of gloomy nuns, a ragged man wearing chains, and the Fat Friar, a cheerful Hufflepuff ghost, who was talking to a knight with an arrow sticking out of his forehead. Marcus noticed, to no surprise, that the Slytherin ghost, the Bloody Baron, was being given a wide berth by the other ghosts.

"Oh, no," said Hermione, stopping abruptly. "Turn back, turn back, I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle -"

"Who?" Marcus heard Harry ask as they backtracked quickly.

"She haunts one of the toilets in the girls' bathroom on the first floor," Hermione explained.

"She haunts a _toilet_?" Marcus and Ron asked exasperately.

"Yes. It's been out of order all year because she keeps having tantrums and flooding the place. I never went in there anyway if I could avoid it; it's awful trying to use the bathroom with her wailing at you -"

"Look, food!" said Ron.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione approached it eagerly while Marcus approached it cautiously. As soon as he arrived, his suspicions were confirmed: None of the food that was placed on the long, black velvet covered table was by any means edible. In fact, a lot of the food looked like it should've been tossed months ago. Worst of all was the enormous gray cake in the shape of a tombstone, with tar-like icing forming the words:

 **SIR NICHOLAS DE MIMSY-PORPINGTON  
DIED 31ST OCTOBER, 1492**

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a portly ghost approached the table, crouched low, and walked through it, his mouth held wide so that it passed through one of the stinking salmon.

"Can you taste it if you walk through it?" Harry asked him.

"Almost," said the ghost sadly, and he drifted away.

"I expect they've let it rot to give it a stronger flavor," said Hermione knowledgeably, pinching her nose and leaning closer to look at the putrid haggis.

"Well, it doesn't look it's going to work, now matter how long they're going to let it rot," stated Marcus.

"Can we move? I feel sick," said Ron.

Marcus had barely turned around, however, when a little man swooped suddenly from under the table and came to a halt in midair before Marcus.

"Oh, it's you," said Marcus through gritted teeth.

Wearing a bright orange party hat, a revolving bow tie, and a broad grin on his wide, wicked face was one of Marcus's least favorite things in Hogwarts: Peeves the Poltergeist.

"Oh, sorry, old geezer, didn't see you there," said Peeves, not sounding sorry at all. "I almost mistook you as one of the ghosts, but I'm sure you'll be joining them sooner than later."

"Not before I take you with me," said Marcus, who made an attempt to grab Peeves by the throat, but was restrained by Harry, Ron, and Hermione, the latter of which hissed, "Not here, not now! You'll embarrass Nearly Headless Nick!"

Peeves looked to Hermione and said in a sweet tone, "Nibbles?" offering them a bowl of peanuts covered in fungus.

"No thanks," said Hermione.

"Heard you talking about poor Mrytle," said Peeves, his eyes dancing. " _Rude_ you was about poor Myrtle." He took a deep breath and bellowed, "OI, MYRTLE!"

"Oh, no, Peeves, don't tell her what I said, she'll be really upset," Hermione whispered frantically. "I didn't mean it, I don't mind her - er, hello, Myrtle."

The squat ghost of a girl had glided over. She had the glummest face Marcus had ever seen, half-hidden behind lank hair and thick-pearly spectacles.

"What?" she said sulkily.

"How are you, Myrtle?" said Hermione in a falsely bright voice. "It's nice to see you out of the toilet."

Myrtle sniffled.

"Miss Granger was just talking about you -" said Peeves slyly in Myrtle's ear.

"Just saying - saying - how nice you look tonight," said Hermione, glaring at Peeves.

Marcus saw Myrtle eyeing Hermione suspiciously and he was wisely keeping his mouth shut. The last thing he wanted to happen was to get sucked into this mess.

"You're making fun of me," she said, silver tears welling rapidly in her small, see-through eyes.

"No - honestly - didn't I just say how nice Myrtle's looking?" said Hermione, Marcus hearing her nudging Harry and Ron rather painfully into their sides.

"Oh, yeah -"

"She did -"

"Don't lie to me," Myrtle gapsed, tears now flooding down her face, while Peeves chuckled happily over her shoulder. "D'you think I don't know what people call me behind my back? Fat Myrtle! Ugly Myrtle! Miserable, moaning, moping Myrtle!"

"You've forgotten pimply," Peeves hissed in her ear.

Moaning Myrtle burst into anguished sobs and fled from the dungeon. Peeves shot after her, pelting her with moldy peanuts, yelling, _"Pimply! Pimply!"_

"Oh, dear," said Hermione sadly.

Marcus, grateful that it was over, sighed, looked to Hermione, and said, "I'm sorry, Hermione, but who exactly who were you trying to fool during that whole debacle?"

Hermione made a noise of disapproval and slapped him on the left arm in response.

"Enjoying yourselves?" asked a familiar voice.

Marcus looked over his shoulder to see that Nearly Headless Nick had drifted towards them.

"Oh, yes," they lied.

"Not a bad turnout," said Nearly Headless Nick proudly. "The Wailing Widow came all the way up from Kent...It's nearly time for my speech, I'd better go and warn the orchestra..."

Oddly enough, though, the orchestra stopped playing the very second Nearly Headless Nick finished his sentence. In fact, nearly everyone stopped what they were doing, fell silent, and looked around in excitement. Marcus wasn't exactly sure why until he heard the sound of a hunting horn echoing around the area.

"Oh, here we go," said Nearly Headless Nick bitterly.

Through the dungeon wall burst a dozen ghost horses, each ridden by a headless horsemen. The assembly clapped wildly and for good reason: It was quite a sight to behold. Marcus would've been clapping with everyone else if it wasn't for Nearly Headless Nick.

The horses galloped into the middle of the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging. At the front of the pack was a large ghost who held his bearded head under his arm, from which position he was blowing the horn. The ghost leapt down, lifted his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd, causing everyone to laugh except Marcus, and strode over to Nearly Headless Nick, squashing his head back onto his neck.

"Nick!" he roared. "How are you? Head still hanging in there?"

He gave a hearty guffaw and clapped Nearly Headless Nick on the shoulder.

"Welcome, Patrick," said Nick stiffly.

"Live 'uns!" said Sir Patrick, spotting Harry, Ron, Marcus, and Hermione and giving a huge, fake jump of astonisment, so that his head fell off again. While the crowd howled with laughter, Marcus had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He reasoned that this ghost clearly loved to get attention out of people.

Nearly Headless Nick must've felt the same way, because he said in a very dark tone, "Very amusing."

"Don't mind Nick!" shouted Sir Patrick's head from the floor. "Still upset we won't let him join the Hunt! But I mean to say - look at the fellow -"

"I think," said Harry hurriedly, at a meaningful look from Nick, "Nick's very - frightening and - er -"

"Ha!" yelled Sir Patrick's head. "Bet he asked you to say that!"

Marcus had to resist the urge again, this time to facepalm himself.

"If I could have everyone's attention, it's time for my speech!" said Nearly Headless Nick loudly, striding toward the podium and climbing into an icy blue spotlight.

"My late lamented lords, ladies, and gentlemen, it is my great sorrow..."

But nobody heard much more. Sir Patrick and the rest of the Headless Hunt took it upon themselves to start a game of Head Hockey and the crowd turned to watch it unfold before them. Poor Nearly Headless Nick tried all he could to get the attention of the crowd again, but to no avail. He gave up right after Sir Patrick's head went sailing past him to loud cheers.

Marcus, starting to feel very cold and slightly hungry, was starting to get fed up.

"I can't stand much more of this," Ron muttered, his teeth chattering, as the orchestra ground back into action and the ghosts swept back onto the dance floor.

"Yes, Harry, this party's charm has definitely worn off, if you catch my drift," Marcus said to him.

"Let's go," Harry said in agreement.

They backed toward the door, nodding the beaming at anyone who looked at them, and a minute later they were able to succeed in leaving the Deathday Party.

Not one second after they closed that door behind them, Marcus pointed to Harry and Hermione and said, "Okay, you and you, clearly don't know how to come up with things to say in the moment."

"Well, Marcus, I'd like to see you do any better," said Hermione.

"Well, the next time we get caught in such a situation, allow me to show you how it's done," Marcus said with confidence.

"Hey, guys, come on," Ron said. "If we hurry up to the Halloween Feast, the pudding might not be finished yet."

As the four of them hurried their way to the stairs leading up to the entrance hall, it happened again.

Marcus was brought to his knees by the horrible pain that was coming from his eyes and, once again, he wanted to cry from the pain.

"Marcus, are you all right?!" squealed Hermione.

"Harry, why'd we stop?" Ron asked Harry.

Marcus forced himself to open his eyes and, like before, everything was completely inverted, like the world of color was ripped away from him.

 _"The Negative Vision!"_ Marcus thought. _"It's back!"_

He saw Harry clutching at the stone wall, looking around as if he expected something to jump out of nowhere.

Marcus got back on his feet as Hermione said, "Harry, what're you-?"

"It's that voice again - shut up a minute -"

 _"He's hearing that voice again!"_ Marcus thought. _"This could be my chance!"_

"Listen!" said Harry urgently, and Ron and Hermione froze, watching him. Marcus, however, looked around.

He didn't spot anyting until he looked above him and saw it: Like before, there was the ominous, enormous, black cyndrilical shape making it's way through the walls.

"This way!" Harry and Marcus shouted at the same time, and they began to run, up the stairs, into the entrance hall. Harry and Marcus didn't bother to stop, having to sprint up the marble staircase to the first floor, Ron and Hermione clattering behind him.

"Harry, Marcus, what're we -"

"SHH!"

While Harry was doing what Marcus thought was listening, he looked around wildly, trying to see that same shape from before.

 _"Come on, come on!"_ Marcus thought. _"Where did you go?!"_

Marcus then looked up again and saw that same shape again, this time it was starting to slow down.

 _"I have you now!"_ thought Marcus, who started to take off for the second floor.

Marcus had only taken a few steps when he heard Harry yell, "It's going to kill someone!"

"What?!" Marcus shouted and, despite all the pain his eyes were bringing him, he urged himself to run faster. He took as many leaps up the stairs as he could and, upon arriving on the second floor, he took off as fast as he could.

He weaved in and out of objects to get to the shape, which seemed to have stopped at a deserted passage.

However, right before he turned the corner to enter the deserted passage, the pain abruptly stopped and his normal vision came back to him immediately.

"Wait, what?!" said Marcus. He couldn't see anything that would resemble a giant, cyndrilical figure in the corridor. He slammed his fists into the floor and frustration and shouted, "Damn it! I was so close!"

He heard Harry, Ron, and Hermione come from behind him. "It's no good!" Marcus said to them without actually facing him. "Whatever it was is gone now."

"Harry, Marcus, _what_ was that all about?" said Ron, wiping sweat off his face. "I couldn't hear anything..."

But Hermione gave a sudden gasp, pointing down the corridor.

 _"Look!"_

Marcus, in that moment, noticed something shining on the wall ahead. He enhanced his vision and was appalled by what he saw.

Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall with blood, positioned between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.

 **THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.**

Marcus was so focused on the writing on the wall that he barely heard Ron saying with a slight quiver, "What's that thing - hanging underneath?"

Marcus took a few steps forward and heard Harry slip. As Ron and Hermione grabbed him in time, Marcus looked down to see a large puddle of water.

 _"That's unusual,"_ thought Marcus. _"I wasn't aware of there being any plumbing in a corridor like this."_

Marcus then looked up and had to jump backward from the sight.

Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring.

 _"What in the world happened to Filch's cat?!"_ Marcus thought in horror. _"There's no way...it can't be..."_

He then heard Ron say, "Let's get out of here."

"Shouldn't we try and help -" Harry began awkwardly.

Marcus effectively cut him off by saying, "Trust me, Harry, if there's any place we don't want to be caught in, it's this corridor."

Marcus then heard a rumble, like distant thunder, followed by the sound of hundreds of feet making their way up the stairs.

Still using his enhanced vision, he saw hundreds of golden, humanoid lights coming at them from both sides.

 _"Crap, we're too late!"_ Marcus thought. _"There's nowhere to run!"_

One minute, the sounds of loud, happy talk of well-fed people echoed around them. The next minute, students were crashing into the passage from both end and, upon seeing the hanging cat, stopped talking. Marcus returned his vision to normal with himself, Harry, Ron, and Hermione standing alone among the masses of students trying to push forward to see the grisly sight.

Then, out of nowhere, Marcus heard someone shout through the quiet.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

Marcus emitted a low growl before turning to see Draco Malfoy. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive, his usually bloodless face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat.


	10. (10) Tales and Ideas

**Welcome to the next chapter of HP: The Secret Path! Thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to read this story, it really makes me happy!**

 **Disclaimer: No ownership of HP. I know, I tried...again. JK Rowling threatened to put a restraining order on me, so I figured I would stop trying. I told her I own the OC's, so she can't take that away from me, at least.**

 **Now, here's...**

Chapter 10: Tales and Ideas

 **Enjoy!**

"What's going on here? What's going on?"

Attracted no doubt by Malfoy's offensive shouting, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked.

And his popping eyes fell on Harry and Marcus.

 _"You!"_ he screeched, pointing at the two of them. _"You!_ You two murdered my cat!"

He then grabbed them by the shirts and yelled, "You two've killed her! I'll kill the both of you! I'll -"

Marcus was about a second away from punching Filch in the face when he heard a commanding voice yell, _"Argus!"_

Sure enough, Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a decent number of other teachers. In seconds, he had swept past Harry, Ron, Marcus, and Hermione and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.

"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Williams, Ms. Granger."

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly.

"My office is nearest, Headmaster - just upstairs - please feel free -"

"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore.

Marcus watched as the silent crowd parted to let them pass. He could see the look of fear on the students' faces, how they must've believed that him and Harry were somehow responsible for this horrendous act. He couldn't bear to look at them, only looking to the ground in anger as Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore; so did Professors McGonagall and Snape.

As they entered Lockhart's darkened office there was a flurry of movement across the walls. Marucs noticed in time that several of the Lockharts in the pictures dodging out of their sight, their hair in rollers. Marcus frowned in disgust. How anyone could be this conceited was beyond him.

The real Lockhart, meanwhile, lit the candles on his desk and stood back. Dumbledore laid Mrs. Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her. Harry, Ron, Marcus, and Hermione exchanged tense looks and sank into chairs outside the pool of candlelight, watching.

The tip of Dumbledore's long, crooked nose was barely an inch from Mrs. Norris's fur. He was looking at her closely through his half-moon spectacles, his long fingers gently prodding and poking. Professor McGonagall was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Snape loomed behind them, half in shadow, wearing a most peculair expression: It was as though he was trying hard not to smile. And Lockhart was hovering around all of them, making suggestions.

"It was definitely a curse that killed her - probably the Transmogrifian Torture - I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her..."

 _"Yeah, right,"_ thought Marcus. _"No spell I've ever read about causes this kind of condition. Whatever, or whoever caused this, it's definitely not natural."_

Lockhart's comments were punctuated by Filch's dry, racking sobs. He was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs. Norris, his face in his hands. As much as Marcus hated Filch, he did feel sorry for him, although not as much as he felt worried regarding their circumstances. If Dumbledore believed Filch, the four of them would have a heck of a time trying to get out of trouble.

Dumbledore was now muttering strange words under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand, but nothing happened: She continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed.

"...I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadogou," said Lockhart, "a series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography, I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which cleared the matter up at once..."

Marcus looked at him with the deadliest stare he could muster, thinking, _"Do you ever shut up, you idiotic buffon?!"_

At last Dumbledore straightened up.

"She's not dead, Argus," he said softly.

Lockhart stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented.

"Not dead?" choked Filch, looking through his fingers at Mrs. Norris. "But why's she all - stiff and frozen?"

"She has been Petrified," said Dumbledore. "But, how, I cannot say..."

"Ask _them_!" shrieked Filch, turning his blotched and tearstained face to Harry and Marcus.

"Oh, come off it!" Marcus said back to Filch. "You're still trying to blame us?!"

Dumbledore held up a hand to silence Marcus and then looked at Filch and said firmly, "No second year could have done this. It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced -"

"They did it, they did it!" Filch spat, his pouchy face purpling. "You saw what they wrote on the wall! Potter found - in my office - Potter knows I'm a - I'm a -" Filch's face worked horribly before saying, "Potter knows I'm a Squib!"

Marcus looked shocked as he thought, _"Filch's a Squib?!"_

"We never _touched_ Mrs. Norris!" Harry said loudly. "And I don't even know what a Squib _is."_

"Rubbish!" snarled Filch. "He saw my Kwikspell letter!"

"If I might speak, Headmaster," said Snape from the shadows, making Marcus start to get that bad feeling that this was going to be one of those situations where he had to think fast.

"Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time," he stated, a slight sneer curling his mouth as though he doubted it. "But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't he at the Halloween feast?"

Before Harry, Ron, or Hermione could speak, Marcus said, "That's because he was invitied to attend Nearly Headless Nick's 500th Deathday Party by Nick himself and myself, Ron, and Hermione were invited with him. You can ask any number of the ghosts. I'm sure they can vouch for the four of us."

Snape looked at Marcus and he knew this was going to be a battle of wits.

"But why not join the feast afterward?" Snape asked, his black eyes glittering in the candlelight. "Why go up to that corridor?"

"By the time we were able to leave the Deathday Party, the Halloween Feast in question was nearly over," Marcus "explained". "There wouldn't have been anything left for us. I did happen to make a request to the kitchens earlier that day to leave a small table of the Halloween Feast's food and drinks in the Gryffindor Common Room, in case we ran into that problem. It was lucky that I did, because the party didn't have the best of choices of food to choose from."

Snape narrowed his eyes at Marcus as he asked, "And why the Gryffindor Common Room?"

"Well, if you insist on knowing, Hermione and I planned on helping Harry and Ron finishing that particularly nasty Potions assignment you recently handed out," said Marcus, who was making sure to not sound anything but confident in what he was saying.

"Why, you little -" Snape started to say, but Dumbledore said firmly, "Severus!"

Snape straightened himself, looked at Dumbledore, and said, "I suggest, Headmaster, that they are hiding the truth from us. It might be a good idea if Potter and Williams were deprived of certain privileges until they are ready to tell the whole story. I personally feel they should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until they are ready to be honest."

"Really, Severus," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "I see no reason to stop the boys from playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with broomsticks. There is no evidence at all that Potter and Williams have done anything wrong."

 _"Finally, someone that's able to come to the obvious conclusion!"_ thought Marcus.

Dumbledore gave Harry and Marcus searching looks. There was something about his twinkling light-blue gaze that made Marcus feel like he couldn't hide anything from him.

"Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," he said firmly.

Marcus sighed in relief. Snape, however, looked furious. So did Filch.

"My cat has been Petrified!" he shrieked, his eyes popping. "I want to see some _punishment_!"

"We will be able to cure her, Argus," said Dumbledore patiently. "Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris."

"I'll make it," Lockhart butted in. "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep -"

"Excuse me," said Snape icily. "But I believe I am the Potions master at this school."

There was a very awkward pause before Dumbledore turned to Harry, Ron, Marcus, and Hermione and simply said, "You may go."

Without actually running, the four of them proceeded to exit as quickly as they could. They didn't stop until they were a floor up from Lockhart's office, where they turned into an empty classroom and closed the door quietly behind him.

"That," said Marcus, pointing to Hermione, "is how you come up with information in the heat of the moment."

"I've gotta hand it to Marcus, Hermione," Ron said, "That was a brilliant story he came up with."

Marcus looked to Harry, who looked worried.

"Harry, what's the matter?" asked Marcus.

"D'you think I should have told them about that voice I heard?"

"No," said Ron and Marcus immediately. Ron then continued, "Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the Wizarding World."

Harry then asked, "You guys do believe me, don't you?"

"Of course we do, Harry," said Marcus. "But - even you have to admit it's weird..."

"Like having eyes acting on their own?" asked Hermione.

"Huh?" said Marcus.

"Back in the dungeons, I saw your eyes," said Hermione. "They looked like the color of pure gold, the entirety of your eyes."

"Not just my irises?" asked Marcus.

Hermione nodded her head, which caused Marcus to say, "Well, it's not like I understand everything myself. This is all pretty weird, to say the least."

"And what was that writing on the wall?" Harry asked. _"The Chamber Has Been Opened..._ What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing good, if tonight was any indication," said Marcus.

"You know, it rings a sort of bell," said Ron slowly. "I think someone told me a story about a secret chamber at Hogwarts...might've been Bill..."

"And what on earth's a Squib?" said Harry.

At this question, Marcus couldn't help but smirk while Ron had to stifle a snigger.

"Well - it's not funny really - but as it's Filch," said Marcus.

"A Squib is someone who was born into a Wizarding family but hasn't got any magic powers," Ron explained. "Kind of the opposite of Muggle-born wizards, but Squibs are quite unusual."

"If Filch's trying to learn magic from a Kwikspell course, it's pretty obvious that he's a Squib. It actually explains a lot," Marcus told Harry.

"Like why he hates students so much," said Ron.

Marcus and Ron then looked at each other with satisfied looks on their faces as they simultaneously said, "He's bitter."

Marcus then heard a clock chime somewhere in the distance.

"Midnight," said Harry. "We'd better get to bed before Snape comes along and tries to frame us for something else."

Marcus found himself, once again, at the top of Azkaban, in the Dark Prince's prison cell. He was lost in thought when he touched his left index finger to his right shoulder.

"Yes, what is it?" he said.

It was silent for quite some time. A twisted smile formed on his face as he said, "Ah, I see. Very interesting. Any casulaties?"

Silence was prominent for a few seconds before the Dark Prince said, "Well, all's well that ends well, I suppose. Though, this is definitely not the end. Should this happen in the future, notify me at once."

He then released his index finger from his shoulder and said, "Well, looks like that little push was all it took to get the ball rolling. Emotions are so easy to play with, it's rather laughable. Ah, well. I guess the only question remains now is what will happen when _he_ starts putting the pieces together. I guess only time will tell."

He then went backing to his own thoughts as everything faded to black...

* * *

For a few days, the school wasn't talking about anything else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back. Marcus had saw, to his sheer annoyance, him attempting to scrub the message off the wall with Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover. Luckily, it had no effect; the words were still gleaming as brightly as ever on the stone, which was good for him. He still wanted to investigate the scene in question, and it wouldn't do him any good if the scene was disturbed in any way.

When Filch wasn't guarding the scene, which was hardly at all, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like "breathing loudly" and "looking happy."

Ginny Weasley seemed very disturbed by Mrs. Norris's fate. It came as no surprise, considering her love for cats, as he found out over the summer.

"But you haven't really got to know Mrs. Norris," Ron told her bracingly. "Honestly, we're much better off without her." Ginny's lips trembled as Ron assured her, "Stuff like this doesn't often happen at Hogwarts. They'll catch the maniac who did it and have him out of here in no time. I just hope he's got time to Petrify Filch before he's expelled. I'm only joking -" Ron added hastily as Ginny blanched.

The attack also made Marcus swallow his pride and he decided to write a letter to his parents. So, that next Wednesday, he sat down in the front of the Library and wrote:

 _Mom, Dad,_

 _This is probably a while overdue, but I need to tell you guys something. There was an attack here at Hogwarts. Before you freak out, no one's dead, but Filch's cat is now Petrified, though no one knows how. But, oddly enough, that's not the weird part. Right before the attack happened, my eyes acted on their own. They flared up in power, and it was excruciatingly painful, but I was able to see everything, albeit completely inverted. I need to know what exactly is going on with my eyes that would cause something like that to happen._

 _-Marcus Williams_

He then called Archie using his owl whistle he acquired over the summer. In two minutes, Archie came landing on his left, holding his leg out. As Marcus was tying the letter to his owl's leg, he said, "Now, make sure this goes straight to either Mom or Dad, all right? I'll make sure to have some treats ready for you when you return."

As he saw Archie take off, he made his way into the Library, but didn't take three steps when he heard, "So, Lorelei, have you heard the latest rumors?"

He hid himself behind the nearest bookshelf as he heard her voice say, "Oh, goodness. Not another rumor."

"I know, I shouldn't," said the first voice. "But, it's about Harry Potter and Marcus Williams."

That got his attention. He started to listen intently as Lorelei said, "Don't tell me, everyone thinks Harry Potter's the Heir of Slytherin?"

"Aw, you're no fun," said the first voice. "But, everyone thinks that Marcus Williams has something to do with the attack, too. After all, he was at the scene with Potter and everything."

Hearing this made his blood boil. Were people so idiotic that they would believe the first conclusion that came to them?!

It then utterly surprised him to hear Lorelei say, "I don't think that's how it is at all. From what I saw, they were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. Besides, there was nothing on them to actually prove their connections to the attack."

"Well, I have to admit, you're right," said the first voice. "But, it still doesn't change the fact that Williams is so mysterious."

"I'm sure he has his reasons," he heard Lorelei say. "Besides, from what I found out, he's really a nice, kind, and intelligent person. I just wish I was able to talk to him."

This statement made his heart drop. Was it really that obvious?

"Well, good luck with that," said the first voice. "You're going to need it."

He then heard enough. He made his way to the back of the Library, where he found Ron measuring his History of Magic homework parchment along with Harry.

"I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches..." said Ron furiously, letting go of his parchment, which sprang back into a roll. "And Hermione's done four feet seven inches and her writing's _tiny."_

He then noticed Marcus and asked, "And how were you able to write five feet of parchment?!"

"Simple," said Marcus. "I pay attention in class."

This earned him a dirty look from Ron as Harry asked, "Where is she?"

"Somewhere over there," Ron replied, pointing along the shelves. "Looking for another book. I think she's trying to read the whole Library before Christmas."

Harry then told Ron and Marcus about Justin Finch-Fletchley running away from him earlier.

"That's awfully strange," said Marcus. "Surely, he wouldn't run away from you without a good reason."

"Dunno why you care either way, Harry. I thought he was a bit of an idiot," said Ron, who was making up for his lack of space requirement on his homework by writing as big as he possibly could. "All that junk about Lockhart being so great -"

Marcus then saw Hermione emerging from between the bookshelves, looking quite irritable and ready to talk to them for the first time in a while.

" _All_ the copies of _Hogwarts, A History_ have been taken out," she said, sitting down next to Harry and Ron. "And there's a two-week waiting list. I _wish_ I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books."

"Why do you want it?" Harry asked.

"The same reason everyone else wants it," said Hermione, "to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets."

"What's that?" said Harry quickly.

"That's just it. I can't remember," said Hermione, biting her lip. "And I can't find the story anywhere else -"

 _"Believe me, I've read that book inside and out, and there wasn't much to go off of in the first place,"_ Marcus thought with great irritation.

"Hermione, Marcus, let me read your compositions," said Ron desperately, checking his watch.

"Definitely not!" said Marcus, who hurried up and stuffed his History of Magic homework in his bag.

"You've had ten days to finish it, Ronald Weasley," Hermione said, sounding severe.

"I only need another two inches, come on -"

The bell rang and Ron and Hermione led the way to History of Magic, bickering as usual.

History of Magic was, by far, the dullest subject on the schedule. Professor Binns, who taught the class, was their only ghost teacher, and the most exciting thing that ever happened in his classes was his entering the room through the blackboard. Ancient and shriveled, many people said he hadn't noticed he was dead. He had simply got up to teach one day and left his body behind him in an armchair in front of the staffroom fire; his routine had not varied in the slightest since.

Today was no exception to the expectations of the class. Professor Binns opened his notes and began to read in a flat drone like an old vacuum cleaner until nearly everyone in the class was in a deep stupor, occassionally coming to long enough to copy down a name or date, then falling asleep again. He had been speaking for half an hour when something happened that Marcus had never seen before: Hermione put up her hand.

Professor Binns, glancing up in the middle of a deadly dull lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289, looked amazed.

"Miss - er -?"

"Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets," said Hermione in a clear voice.

The effect was immediate: Nearly everyone who had dozed off suddenly awoke, suddenly alert to what was going on.

Professor Binns blinked before responding in his dry, wheezy voice, "My subject is History of Magic. I deal with _facts,_ Miss Granger, not myths and legends." He cleared his throat with a small noise like chalk snapping and continued, "In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcerers -"

He stuttered to a halt as Hermione's hand was once again waiving in the air.

"Miss Grant?"

"Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?"

Professor Binns was looking at her in such amazement, most likely because no student had actually ever bothered to stay awake, let alone interrupt him in the middle of class.

"Well," said Professor Binns slowly, "yes, one could argue that, I suppose." As he peered at Hermione as though he head never seen a student properly before, he continued, "However, the legend of which you speak is such a very _sensational,_ even _ludicrous_ tale -"

But there was no denying the class's interest in the subject as everyone was hanging onto his every word. He looked dimly at them all, every face turned to his. He was cleary thrown off by the amount of attention he was getting because of this.

"Oh, very well," he said slowly. "Let me see...the Chamber of Secrets..."

 _"Now, this should be interesting,"_ thought Marcus.

"You all know, of course, that Hogwarts wass founded over a thousand years ago - the precise date is uncertain - by the four greatest withces and wizards of the age. The four school Houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution."

He paused for a few second to gaze around the room before continuing, "For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them up to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more _selective_ about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school."

Professor Binns paused again, this time to purse his lips.

"Reliable historical sources tell us this much," he said. "But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing. Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic."

As he finished telling the story, there was silence. But, it wasn't the usual, sleepy that that would normally occupy the room. No, this was a silence of unease and anticipation as the students looked to Professor Binns to learn more. He looked faintly annoyed at this.

"The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," he said. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards, It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."

Marcus then saw Hermione's hand shoot into the air like a muggle rocket.

"Sir - what exactly do you mean by the 'horror within' the Chamber?"

"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control," said Professor Binns in his dry, reedy voice.

As the class exchanged nervous looks, Marcus had the feeling that things were about to spiral out of control.

"I tell you, the thing does not exist," said Professor Binns, shuffling his notes. "There is no Chamber and no monster."

"But, sir," said Seamus Finnigan, "if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else _would_ be able to find it, would they?"

"Nonsense, O'Flaherty," said Professor Binns in an aggravated tone. "If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't founded the thing -"

"But, Professor," piped up Parvati Patil, "you'd probably have to use Dark Magic to open it -"

"Just because a wizard _doesn't_ use Dark Magic doesn't mean he _can't,_ Miss Pennyfeather," snapped Professor Binns. "I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore -"

"But maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn't -" began Dean Thomas.

At this point, Marcus thought, _"3, 2, and 1..."_

"That will do," Professor Binns said sharply, clearly showing that he had enough of the subject. "It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish tale! We will return, if you please, to _history,_ to solid, believable, verifiable _fact_!"

And, in five minutes flat, the class had sunken into the normal, sleep-heavy atmosphere.

* * *

"I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loony," Ron told Harry, Marcus, and Hermione as they fought their way through the teeming corridors at the end of the lesson to drop off their bags before dinner. "But I never knew he started all this pure-blook stuff. I wouldn't be in his House if you paid me. Honestly, if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I'd've got the train straight back home."

"If the Sorting Hat had put me in Slytherin like it wanted to, I would've torn that stupid thing apart right on the spot," Marcus said.

"What?!" Ron, Harry, and Hermione said as they looked at Marcus.

"That was exactly my reaction before I threatened to tear it apart," said Marcus in a matter-of-fact tone. "It put me in Gryffindor in the end, so all's well that ends well."

All of a sudden, Marcus heard a familiarly unwanted voice saying, "Hiya, Harry! Hiya, Marcus!"

As soon as he saw it was Colin Creevey, Marcus and Harry automatically said, "Hello, Colin."

"Harry -Harry - a boy in my class has been saying you're -"

But Colin was so small that, compared to the tide of people coming his way towards the Great Hall, he stood no chance. Marcus heard him squeak, "See you, Harry, Marcus!" before he disappeared.

"What's a boy in his class saying about you?" Hermione wondered.

"That I'm Slytherin's heir, I expect," said Harry, who had an unpleasant look on his face.

Marcus's anger rose as he heard Ron say in disgust, "People here'll believe anything."

As the crowds thinned and the four of them started climbing the next staircase without difficulty, Ron turned to Hermione and asked, "D'you _really_ think there's a Chamber of Secrets?"

"I don't know," she replied, frowning. "Dumbledore couldn't cure Mrs. Norris, and that makes me think that whatever attacked her might not be - well - human."

Marcus knew for sure that, whatever it was that attacked Mrs. Norris, was not human. After all, when his Negative Vision came to him instantly, without warning, the shape he saw was no human form he'd ever seen, but he just couldn't figure out what exactly it could be. He could only make out a cyndrilical shape at best, with no definitive form of human or beast.

As Hermione finished speaking, they turned a corner and found themselves at the very corridor where the attack had happened. And, as luck would have it, Filch wasn't standing guard like a goblin at Gringotts. Marcus formed a smirk on his face, knowing that this would be the perfect time to investigate.

"That's where Filch has been keeping guard," Ron muttered.

"And now he's not," said Marcus. "This would be perfect to try and get some more clues. What do you guys say?"

They looked at each other before Harry said, "Can't hurt to have a poke around."

Immediately, Marcus made his way to the message on the wall, standing on the chair before enhancing his vision.

 _"Well, from what I can tell, it's blood, but not human blood,"_ Marcus thought as he saw different shades of colors from the bloody message. _"Must be an animal's blood."_

Marcus heard Harry say, "Scorch marks!" He then saw them point and say, "Here - and here -"

"Scorch marks, huh?" Marcus said out loud. "Why would there be scorch marks?"

"Come and look at this!" said Hermione. "This is funny..."

Marcus looked to where Hermione pointed, to the topmost pane of the window next to the message. He the saw around twenty spiders scuttling, trying desperately to get through a small crack. A long, silvery thread was dangling like a rope, as though they had all climbed it in their hurry to get outside.

 _"It looks like they're fleeing,"_ Marcus noted. _"But from what?"_

"Have you ever seen spiders act like that?" said Hermione wonderingly.

"No," said Harry. "Have you, Ron? Ron?"

Marcus looked to Ron, who was standing quite a distance away and looked like he had half a mind to run.

"What's up?" said Harry.

"I - don't - like - spiders," said Ron tensely.

"I never knew that," said Hermione, looking at Ron in surprise. "You've used spiders in Potions loads of times..."

" I don't mind the dead," said Ron, who was carefully looking anywhere but at the window. "I just don't like the way they move..."

Hermione giggled while Marcus said in a voice that was disbelieving, "Really, Ron, you have arachnophobia?"

"Hey, it's not funny!" Ron said fiercly. "If you must know, when I was three, Fred turned my - my teddy bear into a great big filthy spider because I broke his toy broomstick...You wouldn't like them either if you'd been holding your bear and suddenly it had too many legs and..."

As Ron broke off, shuddering at the though, Marcus said, "Okay, I take it back. I can definitely see why, now."

"Hey, remember all that water on the floor?" Harry asked a little too quickly. "Where did that come from? Someone's mopped it up."

"It was about here," said Ron, recovering himself to walk a few paces past Filch's chair and pointing. "Level with this door."

Marcus walked up with Ron and waited for him to open the door, but instead saw him withdraw his hand from the brass knob, like he burned himself.

"What's the matter?" Marcus asked.

"Can't go in there," said Ron gruffly. "That's a girls' toilet."

"Oh, Ron, there won't be anyone in there," said Hermione, standing up and coming over. "That's Moaning Myrtle's place. Come on, let's have a look."

She then opened the door, completely ignoring the out of order sign.

Marcus had seen a lot of bad bathrooms in his life, but Moaning Myrtle's bathroom had to take the cake: A large, cracked mirror with chipped sinks, a damp floor that reflected the dull light from the stubs of a few candles, and the wooden stall doors, all flaking, scratched, and even one hanging on it's hinges. It looked like something that would be described from a horror novel, and that was putting it nicely.

Hermione put her fingers to her lips and set off toward the end stall. When she reached it she said, "Hello, Myrtle, how are you?"

Harry, Ron, and Marcus went to look. Moaning Myrtle was floating above the tank of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin.

"This is a _girls'_ bathroom," she said, eyeing Ron, Harry, and Marcus suspiciously. " _They're_ not girls."

"No," Hermione said in agreement. "I just wanted to show them how - er - nice it is in here."

She waved vaguely at the dirty old mirror and the damp floor.

"Ask her if she saw anything," Harry mouthed at Hermione.

"What are you whispering?" said Myrtle, staring at Harry.

"Nothing," said Harry quickly "We wanted to ask -"

Marcus facepalmed himself as Myrtle choked, "I wish people would stop talking behind my back! I _do_ have feelings, you know, even if I _am_ dead -"

"Myrtle, no one wants to upset you," said Hermione. "Harry only -"

"No one wants to upset me! That's a good one!" howled Myrtle. "My life was nothing but misery at this place and now people come along ruining my death!"

Marcus, having enough of this situation, took a few steps forward and said in a commanding voice, "Myrtle, have you seen anything funny lately, specifically from the night of the attack? The attack did take place right outside your door, after all."

Mrytle looked at him curiously before dramatically replying, "I wasn't paying attention. Peeves upset me so much I came in here and tried to _kill_ myself. Then, of course, I remembered that I'm - that I'm -"

"Already dead?" said Ron helpfully.

Marcus, once again, facepalmed himself as Myrtle gave a tragic sob, rose up in the air, turned over, and dived headfirst into the toilet, splashing water all over Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Marcus having dove out of the way in time, and vanishing from sight. However, based on the direction of her muffled sobs, Marcus reasoned that she had come to rest somewhere in the U-bend.

Marcus then saw Hermione shrugging wearily and saying, "Honestly, that was almost cheerful for Mrytle...Come on, let's go."

They had barely closed the door on Myrtle's gurgling sobs when a loud voice made the four of them jump.

"RON!"

Marcus looked to the source of the voice to find Percy Weasley stopped dead at the head fo the stairs, prefect badge agleam, and expression of complete shock on his face.

 _"Oh, great,"_ Marcus thought. _"The last person besides the teachers I wanted to have found us."_

"That's a _girls'_ bathroom!" Percy gasped. "What were _you_ -?"

"Just having a look around," Ron shrugged. "Clues, you know -"

Marcus saw Percy swelling in a manner that reminded of Mrs. Weasley over the summer, which wasn't pretty.

"Get - away - from - there -" Percy said, striding toward them and starting to bustle them along, flapping his arms. "Don't you _care_ what this looks like? Coming back here while everyone's at dinner -"

"Why shouldn't we be here?" said Ron hotly, stopping short and glaring at Percy. "Listen, we never laid a finger on that cat!"

"That's what I told Ginny," said Percy fiercely. "but she still seems to think you're going to be expelled, I've never seen her so upset, crying her eyes out, you might think of _her,_ all the first years are thoroughly overexcited by this business -"

" _You_ don't care about Ginny," said Ron, whose ears were now reddening. " _You're_ just worried I'm going to mess up your chances of being Head Boy -"

"Five points from Gryffindor!" Percy said tersely, fingering his prefect bade. "And I hope it teaches you a lesson! No more _detective work_ , or I'll write to Mum!"

And he strode off, the back of his neck as red as Ron's ears.

* * *

The four of them chose seats as far as possible from Percy in the common room that night. Ron's mood was still terrible, which was showing in his attempt to do his Charms homework. He kept blotting the parchment and when he reached for his wand to fix the blotches, it instead caught it on fire. When this happened, Ron slammed _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_ shut. To Marcus's surprise, so did Hermione.

"Who can it be, though?" she said in a quiet voice, as though continuing a conversation they just been having. "Who'd _want_ to frighten all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts?"

"Let's think," said Ron in mock puzzlement. "Who do we know who thinks Muggle-borns are scum?"

He looked to Marcus, who knew exactly what he was talking about.

"You honestly think it's Malfoy?" Marcus asked him.

"Of course I do!" said Ron. "You heard him - _You'll be next, Mudbloods!'_ \- come on, you've only got to look at his foul rat face to know it's him -"

"Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?" said Hermione skeptically.

"Look at his family," said Harry, who closed his own books, as well. "The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin; he's always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil enough."

"They could've had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!" said Ron. "Handing it down, father to son..."

"Well," said Hermione cautiously. "I suppose it's possible..."

"It's more laughable than anything else," said Marcus. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at him as he said, "I really don't think it's Malfoy. If it was him, there'd already be another attack or two. However, I think we all suspect that a Slytherin in this school is doing this."

"But how do we prove that?" said Harry darkly.

"There might be a way," said Hermione slowly, dropping her voice further with a quick glance across the room at Percy. "Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect -"

"If, in a month or so, you feel like explaining, you will let us know, won't you?" said Ron irritably.

"All right," said Hermione coldly. "What we'd need to do is to get inside the Slytherin common room and ask Malfoy a few questions without realizing it's us."

"But that's impossible," Harry said as Ron laughed.

"No, it's not," said Hermione. "All we'd need would be some Polyjuice Potion."

"What's that?" said Ron and Harry together.

Marcus, however, knew exactly what she was talking about. His eyes got a bit wider in realization and he said, "Oh, right, the Polyjuice Potion! Snape mentioned it a few weeks ago in class!"

"D'you honestly think we've got nothing better to do in Potions than listen to Snape?" muttered Ron.

"It transforms you into somebody else, Ron," said Marcus. "Just think about it! The four of us would be able to look exactly like four Slytherins and they wouldn't be any of the wiser. Malfoy would probably tell us anything. I bet he's talking about it in the Slytherin common room right now, if only we could hear him."

"This Polyjuice stuff sounds a bit dodgy to me," said Ron, frowning. "What if we were stuck looking like three of the Slytherins forever."

"It wears off after a while," said Hermione, waving her hand impatiently. "But getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Snape said it was in a book called _Moste Potente Potions_."

"And a book like that is bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library," said Marcus grimly.

Marcus knew that the only way a student was able to get a book out of that section was if a teacher gave said student a signed permission note, which was hardly at all.

"Hard to see why we'd want the book, really," said Ron. "if we weren't going to try and make one of the potions."

"I think," said Hermione, "that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance..."

"Oh, come on, no teacher's going to fall for that," said Ron. "They'd have to be really thick."

"Actually, Ron, I can think of one teacher," said Marcus, holding up his index finger. "And only one..."

 **And that concludes Chapter 10 of HP: The Secret Path! Please feel free to leave a review, tell me what you think! If you have any questions, leave me a PM and I will do my best to answer any questions that you have. Until then, stay alert for the next chapter of HP: The Secret Path!**


	11. (11) Bizarre Forebodings

**First off, I would like to, once again, thank everyone who has taken the time to read my story. I assure you all, I don't plan on slowing down anytime soon. Also...**

 **Disclaimer: No ownership of HP, save for OC's.**

 **Now, here's...**

Chapter 11: Bizarre Forebodings

 **Enjoy!**

Ever since the incident with the Cornish Pixies, Professor Lockhart had refrained from bringing live creatures to class, which Marcus was thankful for. What he was not thankful for was having to endure hearing Lockhart reading out of his own books and even had the more "dramatic" parts acted out for everyone to see. Usually, he picked Harry for said acts, and no mattter which part he was forced to act, Harry always managed to look silly or downright ridiculous because of Lockhart.

Today, however, was worse than all the previous ones: Harry had to act like a werewolf and, if it wasn't for what they about to do, Marcus knew that Harry would've downright refused.

"Nice loud howl, Harry - exactly - and then, if you'll believe it, I pounced - like this - _slammed_ him to the floor - thus - with one hand. I managed to hold him down - with my other, I put my wand to his throat - I then screwed up my remaining strength and performed the immensly complex Homorphus Charm - he let out a piteous moan - go on, Harry - higher than that - good - the fur vanished - the fangs shrank - and he turned back into a man. Simple, yet effective - and another village will remember me forever as the hero who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks."

 _"Believe me, Lockhart, you are no hero,"_ thought Marcus.

The bell rang and Lockhart got to his feet.

"Homework - compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of _Magical Me_ to the author of the best one!"

As the class begin to leave, Marcus, Ron, and Hermione waited for Harry. As he approached them, he muttered, "Ready?"

"Wait till everyone's gone," said Hermione nervously.

Marcus saw the last one leave the classroom and said, "All right, let's get this over with."

She approached Lockhart's desk, a piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand, with the three boys right behind her.

"Er - Professor Lockhart?" Hermione stammered. "I wanted to - to get this book out of the library. Just for background reading." Marcus could tell she was extremely nervous by all the hand shaking she was doing when she held out the piece of paper. "But the thing is, it's in the Restricted Section of the library, so I need a teacher to sign for it - I'm sure it would help me understand what you say in _Gadding with Ghouls_ about slow-acting venoms -"

"Ah, _Gadding with Ghouls_!" said Lockhart, who took the note from Hermione and smiled widely at her. "Possibly my very favorite book. You enjoyed it?"

"Oh, yes," said Hermione eagerly. "So clever, the way you trapped that last one with the tea-strainer -"

Marcus had to use every ounce of his willpower not to roll his eyes as Lockhart warmingly said, "Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving the best student of the year a little extra help." He pulled out an enormous peacock quill. Marcus and Ron formed looks of disgust, but Lockhart must've misunderstood them, for then he said, "Yes, nice, isn't it? I usually save it for book signings."

He scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to Hermione.

"So, Harry, Marcus," said Lockhart, while Hermione folded the note with fumbling fingers and slipped it into her bag. "Tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin, is it not? I hear you're useful players. I was a Seeker, too. I was asked to try out for the National Squad, but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if ever you two feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players..."

Hearing the last words of the setence, Marcus couldn't stop himself. He looked at Lockhart and said, "Well, Professor, the aspects of Quidditch are different when you're a Chaser. So, you'll have to understand if I _don't_ come to you for training. I'll leave that to _actual_ professionals."

Perhaps it was the way he said it, or maybe it was the way Marcus acted in his classes, but Lockhart's face, for a split second, contorted to one of suspicion.

Marcus didn't stick around as he hurried after Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"I don't believe it," said Harry as the four of them examined the signature on the note. "He didn't even _look_ at the book we wanted."

"That's because he's a brainless _git,_ " said Ron. "But who cares, we've got what we needed -"

"He is _not_ a brainless git," said Hermione shrilly as they half ran towards the library.

"Do I need to point out all the examples that _proves_ he's a -" Marcus began to say.

However, their voice dropped as they entered the muffled stillness of the library. Marcus was not pleased to see Madam Pince again and, by the looks on her thin face, she felt the same way about the four of them.

" _Most Potente Potions?_ " she repeated suspiciously, trying to take the note from Hermione; but Hermione wouldn't let go.

"I was wondering if I could keep it," she said breathlessly.

"Come on, Hermione, give it up," said Marcus, who forced the note out of her hand and handed the note to Madam Pince. He saw the look on her face and said, "Look, if you really want his autograph that badly, throw a sheet of parchment in his face. I'm sure he'll sign it."

He saw Madam Pince holding up the note to the light, no doubt to check for forgeries, but it passed her test. She stalked away between the lofty shelves and returned several minutes later carrying a large and moldy-looking book. Hermione put it carefully into her bag and they left, trying not to walk too quickly or look too guilty.

Five minutes later, they were barricaded in Moaning Myrtle's out-of-order bathroom once again. Hermione had overriden Ron's objections by pointing out that it was the last place anyone in their right minds would go, so they were guaranteed some privacy. Moaning Myrtle was crying noisily in her stall, but they were ignoring her, and she them.

Hermione and Marcus opened _Moste Potente Potions_ carefully, and Harry and Ron peered over their shoulders to look at the damp-spotted pages. It was clear as he was flipping through the pages why this book was in the Restriced Section in the first place: Some potions had effects that made Marcus feel physcially ill, and some drawings didn't make the potion appealing at all.

"Here it is," said Hermione excitedly as she found the page headed _The Polyjuice Potion_. Marcus saw the illustrations used to describe the effects the potion would have on it's drinkers and, while it looked gruesome and painful, he was looking foward to the results and he didn't care what he had to go through to get them.

"Holy crap," said Marcus as he perused through the process. "This is absolutely complex!"

"Yes, this is perhaps the most complicated potion I've ever seen," said Hermione in agreement.

"Let's see what ingredients are needed, shall we?" said Marcus. "Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass." He looked to Hermione and said, "That part'll be easy. We can just get those from the student store-cupboard."

"I was thinking the same thing," Hermione said. "Oh, wait a minute...ooh, wow. Powdered horn of a bicorn!"

"Wait, what?" said Marcus as he re-examined the list of ingredients. "Wow, that's going to be hard to get our hands on. And it also asks for shredded skin of a boomslang! That's going to be difficult, as well."

"And, of course, a bit of whoever we want to change into," finished Hermione.

"Excuse me?" said Ron sharply from behind Marcus. "What d'you mean, a bit of whoever we're changing into? I'm drinking _nothing_ with Crabbe's toenails in it -"

"Ron, there's nothing to worry about there," said Marcus. "We add that part last, so we'll have some time..."

Harry then spoke up.

"D'you realize how much we're going to have to steal, Hermione, Marcus? Shredded skin of a boomslang, that's definitely not in the student's cupboard. What're we going to do, break into Snape's private stores? I don't know if this is a good idea..."

"Harry, if we want to get to the bottom of this, or even make some progess, we'll have to do what needs to be done," Marcus said.

Hermione then snapped the book shut and said, "Marcus, if they want to chicken out, it's fine." She turned to look at Harry and Ron with bright pink cheeks and brighter eyes than usual and continued, " _I_ don't want to break rules, you know. _I_ think threatening Muggle-borns is far worse than brewing up a difficult potion. But if you don't want to find out if it's Malfoy, I'll go straight to Madam Pince now and hand the book back in -"

"I never thought I'd see the day when you'd be persuading us to break rules," said Ron. "All right, we'll do it. But not toenails, okay?"

"How long will it take to make, anyway?" said Harry as Hermione, who was looking happier, and Marcus opened the book again.

"Well, since the fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon," said Hermione.

"And the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty one days," said Marcus.

"I'd say it'll be ready in about," said Hermione.

The two of them then said together, "A month."

"And that's if we can get our hands on the necessary ingredients," finished Marcus.

"A month?" said Ron. "Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggle-borns in the school by then!"

Ron then noticed Hermione's and Marcus's eyes narrowing dangerously, and he added swiftly, "But it's the best plan we got, so full steam ahead, I say."

However, while Hermione was checking that the coast was clear for them to leave the bathroom, Ron muttered to Harry and Marcus, "It'll be a lot less hassle if either of you can just Malfoy off his broom tomorrow."

* * *

Marcus woke up Saturday morning feeling nervous. He wasn't nervous about the match, though. He was more than ready for that. The thing has was nervous about was whether he would get his preferred broom in time. He'd have to restrategize everything if it didn't come this morning.

He made his down to breakfast, everybody wishing him good luck on the match. He sat a little further apart from the team and sat there in silence. He never ate anything before a match; it would just upset his stomach. He sat there, wondering what he'd have to do to outplay the Slytherins on their Nimbus 2001s when he heard a familiar hooting sound.

He looked up to find Archie, flying towards him with a rectangular box. He did it! He actually got his preferred broom to him!

As soon as Archie landed, he said, "All right, Archie! Thanks for the save!" He got some treats out of his pockets and said, "Here, have the lot! And take the rest of the day off. You earned it."

Archie nibbled his hands affectionally before starting on the treats. Meanwhile, he stood up with the box under his right arm and looked to his confused teammates.

"See you in the locker room," he simply said before he left the Great Hall.

Once he got to the locker room, he opened up the box and found an envelope inside. He opened up the envelope and read:

 _Marcus,_

 _We're terribly sorry about the late delivery. We only got back in the country last night. The French Ministry of Magic needed our help again and, well, you know how your mother gets whenever France is mentioned_ ("Of course that's what happened," he said out loud). _Regardless, we're very happy that you made the Quidditch Team and I wouldn't worry too much about Snape. He probably had it coming. Anyway, we would be there to watch your match, except we had to report right back to work, but we'll be there for the next one, and that's a promise. Show them what you can do, Marcus._

 _Love, Dad_

Marcus allowed a smirk and said, "Well, I'll definitely be doing that."

He then reached inside his inside robe pocket and took out a tiny vial, holding it in the palm of his right hand.

His task today was twofold. He had to make sure to outplay their Chasers and avoid the Bludgers, but he also had to get his ingredient for the Polyjuice Potion: the bit of whoever he was going to turn into. He chose Marcus Flint, due to him being older and having the same first name, so it would work out for the best this way. He was pretty confident in making information up, but the problem was getting the bit of Marcus Flint he needed. He reasoned that he would have to get bits of his hair, but he only had this game to do it. He wouldn't be able to get another chance.

He put that thought aside as he changed into his Quidditch robes and, by the time he was done, he saw the guys starting to come in and getting changed.

There wasn't much talking to be had between the teammates as they were getting changed and that was to be expected. However, when everyone changed into their Quidditch robes, they sat down to listen to Wood's usual pre-match talk.

"Slytherin has better broom than us," he began. "No point denying it. But we've got better _people_ on our brooms. We've trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all weather -" ("Too true," muttered George Weasley. "I haven't been properly dry since August") "- and we're going to make them rue the day they let that little bit of slime, Malfoy, buy his way onto their team."

Wood then turned to Harry and said, "It'll be down to you, Harry, to show them that a Seeker has to have something more than a rich father. Get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying, Harry, because we've got to win today, we've got to."

"So, no pressure, Harry," said Fred, winking at him.

George then saw Marcus opening up the box from this morning and asked him, "Marcus, what're you doing?"

"Revealing my trump card," said Marcus.

"Trump card?" asked everyone in confusion.

Marcus put the box to the side and tore off the paper to reveal -

"Whoa!" said everyone else in the locker room.

"Is that what I think it is?!" said Wood.

"It's my custom made Nimbus 2001 that I received at Quidditch Camp this past summer," said Marcus, who looked at his best broom ever. Not only did it look good, with a blue broom handle ladled with stars on it, but the actual broom portion was striped with red and white, not to mention that it was customized to the way Marcus played Quidditch.

"All right, then," Wood said, sounding much more confident then before. "Let's go."

They walked out to the pitch and was greeted by a roar of noise, most of which being cheers, but Marcus could hear the boos and hisses, no doubt coming from Slytherin. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, asked Flint and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary.

 _"The entire flow of the match starts with the toss-up,"_ thought Marcus. _"I have to get the Quaffle first and find a way to score before they do. I'll have to find an opportunity to rip out Flint's hair later."_

"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three...two...one..."

She tossed the Quaffle high in the air and, the very second that it started going down, Marcus shot straight for it and was able to grab it a split second earlier than Flint.

He then rocketed up the pitch, well aware that the Slytherin Chasers were hot on his trail.

"You're mine, old geezer!" he heard Flint yell from directly behind him.

"In your dreams, you stupid troll!" he yelled as he jumped off his broom, backflipped to avoid being grabbed by Flint, landed back on his broom, and closed in on the hoops.

 _"All right, then,"_ Marcus thought. _"Time to show off that move!"_

He centered himself going towards the center hoop, straight at the Keeper. Without warning, he jumped off his broom towards his right, the Keeper's left.

 _"Wait for it, wait for it,"_ he thought.

He then saw the Slytherin Keeper go towards the far hoop where he was at and thought, _"Now!"_

He spun a few times and rocketed the Quaffle towards the center hoop, the Keeper trying to save it to no avail.

His broom came to him, sat back on it, and was congratulated by Johnson and Bell as he heard Lee Jordan say, "And new Gryffindor Chaser Marcus Williams scores the first goal by pulling off the famous Chaser Feint, the Cyclone Psych! What a thrill to see that executed live and in person, folks!"

Marcus had no time to slow down, though: Flint was already making his way up the pitch with Pucey next to him. Johnson and Bell were trying to keep up, but weren't able to due to the different class of brooms.

 _"I guess I'll make the attempt now,"_ Marcus thought as he rocketed foward, towards Flint.

He was able to catch up to them rather quickly and that was when he started to make Flint guess. He went to his left before going under him and appearing on his right. He then went under him, as if to try and take it from under him. Flint then made the stupid mistake of holding it over his head and that's when Marcus struck.

He shot straight up Flint's right side and, as his left hand was going for the Quaffle, he used his right hand to wildly grab and rip some hair out of his head.

Just as he succeeded in grabbing the ingredient and the Quaffle, he noticed that one of the Bludgers was coming straight for him. He then formed an idea.

He quickly passed the Quaffle to Johnson before using his left armguard covered forearm to bat the Bludger away. Quickly, he pretended like it hurt, balling up his upper body to hide the fact that he withdrew his tiny vial, unpopped the cork, shoved as many hairs as he could inside the vial, put the cork back on, shoved the vial back into the pocket and zipped it up to secure it.

He then straightened himself and thought, _"Now, it's really time to play!"_

He then saw Johnson getting hit by a Bludger, causing her to drop the Quaffle, which was grabbed by Flint and heading straight his way.

For a little while, Marcus did everything he could to level the playing field. But, as he knew going into his match, there was only so many things he could do, especially when the Slytherin Chasers decided to double up on Marcus and, before he knew it, Slytherin was able to score five goals in a row.

Getting frustrated, he heard Wood call for a timeout. Madam Hooch's whistle rang throughout the pitch and, as Marcus landed on the ground, he saw Harry, Fred, and George diving in fast, trying to avoid the other Bludger.

"What's going on?" said Wood as the Gryffindor team huddled together, while Slytherins in the crowd jeered. "We're being flattened. Fred, George, where were you when that Bludger stopped Angelina scoring?"

"We were twenty feet above her, stopping the other Bludger from murdering Harry, Oliver," said George angrily. "Someone's fixed it - it won't leave Harry alone. It hasn't gone for anyone else all game. The Slytherins must have done something to it."

"But the Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then..." said Wood anxiously.

 _"What in the world's going on?!"_ Marcus thought. _"Harry's got a rogue Bludger?! It had to get tampered with, that's the only way a Bludger could be fixated on one player. But, whose the one responsible?"_

"Listen," said Harry as Marcus noticed Madam Hooch coming closer and closer to them. "with you two flying around me all the time the only way I'm going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue one."

"Don't be thick," said Fred. "It'll take your head off."

"Oliver, this is insane," said Katie Bell angrily. "You can't let Harry deal with that thing on his own. Let's ask for an inquiry -"

"If we stop the match now, we'll have to forfeit!" said Marcus.

"And we're not losing to Slytherin just because of a crazy Bludger! Come on, Oliver, tell them to leave me alone!" said Harry.

"This is all your fault," George said angrily to Wood. "'Get the Snitch or die trying,' what a stupid thing to tell him -"

Madam Hooch had finally joined them, saying, "Ready to resume play?"

Wood looked to Harry before saying, "All right. Fred, George, you heard Harry - leave him alone and let him deal with the Bludger on his own."

The rain started to fall and fall hard, but that didn't slow him down. He received a pass from Bell and was given the green light to go for it. No sooner did he receive said green light that he found himself facing the majority of the Slytherin Quidditch team, no doubt trying to stone wall Marcus's attempt.

He responded by jumping off his broom and proceeded to acrobat off the Slytherins, each of them dumb enough to stand still for him to pull it off. He then passed it to his left, where Johnson was waiting for it. She caught it and threw it right into the wide open hoop.

Obviously frustrated by Marcus slowing them down, Flint gave the ball to Pucey, who shot down the pitch.

Marcus started to shoot right for them and then he saw it.

Right out of the corner of his left eye, he saw Flint rocketing towards him, looking like he was getting ready to hit him.

He smirked before swinging on his broomstick like a pendulum, causing Flint to spectacularly miss and almost falling off his broom. He was so close to Pucey that he used the momentum of his swing to kick the Quaffle out of his hands, which Johnson grabbed and started making her way up the pitch.

She was about halfway down the pitch when the crowd went wild. Marcus then looked around and eventually saw Harry lying down on the grass, clutching the Snitch.

Knowing that the game was over, he flew his way over to Harry and made it in time to hear Harry vaguely say, "Aha, we've won."

He then fainted.

He was about to call for help when he saw the rogue Bludger heading straight for Harry.

"Oh, no, you don't, you stupid Bludger!" Marcus yelled as he proceeded to catch it and fought desperately to keep the Bludger away from Harry. Eventually, he heard Fred and George come to him, Fred saying, "We've got this Bludger! See what you can do for Harry!"

With great difficulty, Marcus gave the Bludger to the Weasley Twins and went back to Harry, only to find Lockhart kneeling next to him.

Getting a bad feeling about the situation, he heard Harry say, "Oh, no, not you."

"Doesn't know what he's saying," said Lockhart loudly to the anxious crowd of Gryffindors that were starting to press on them from all sides. "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm."

 _"No!"_ said Harry. "I'll keep it like this, thanks..."

As he tried to sit up, Marcus summoned his wand from his left forearm, pointed it at Lockhart, and said, "You'll do no such thing, Professor Lockhart."

"Really now, Marcus, you have to trust me," said Lockhart. "I know exactly what I'm doing."

 _"No, you don't!"_ he thought.

"Williams, put your wand away," said who Marcus recognized to be Professor McGonagall. Without looking at her or saying anything, he released his grip on his wand, which then proceeded to shoot back up his sleeve to his left forearm.

He then heard clicking noises, followed by Harry saying, "I don't want a photo of this, Colin!"

"Lie back, Harry," said Lockhart soothingly. "It's a simple charm I've used countless times -"

"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" said Harry through clenched teeth.

"He should really go, Professor," said a muddy Wood, who couldn't help grinning even though his Seeker was injured. "Great capture, Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say -"

Lockhart then proceeded to roll up his jade-green sleeves as he said, "Stand back."

Harry tried to tell him no, but before he could, Lockhart twirled his wand and directed it right at Harry's broken arm.

It was a pretty disgusting sight. Marcus could see Harry's arm going completely flat, like a balloon that was getting its air released. Marcus then realized what happened: The idiot somehow managed to make Harry's bones in his right arm disappear entirely, leaving Harry with a flapping, useless arm.

"Ah," said Lockhart. "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the hospital wing - ah, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, and of course Marcus, would you escort him? - and Madam Pomfrey will be able to - er - tidy you up a bit."

If not for the enormous crowd surrounding them, Marcus would've punched Lockhart right in the face for being such an idiotic git. Nevertheless, he gave him a death stare as him, Ron, and Hermione helped Harry up and proceeded to make their way to the Hospital Wing.

* * *

Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased.

"You should have come straight to me!" she raged, holding up whatever was left of Harry's arm. "I can mend bones in a second - but growing them back -"

Marcus heard the desperation in Harry's voice as he said, "You will be able to, won't you?"

"I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful," said Madam Pomfrey grimly, throwing Harry a pair of pajamas. "You'll have to stay the night..."

Marcus knew exactly what she was referring to: Skele-grow. It was the only known substance in the Wizarding World that was capable of regrowing lost bones. He knew this because he had a similar instance happen to him, only it was his right leg, not his arm. _That_ was some of the worst pain he'd ever felt, and he was sorry to see it happening to Harry.

"How can you stick up for Lockhart now, Hermione, eh?" Ron called through the curtain as he pulled Harry's limp fingers through the cuff. "If Harry had wanted deboning, he would have asked."

"Anyone can make a mistake," said Hermione.

"There is a difference between making a mistake and failing miserably," Marcus stated, trying to hold back his anger. "He had no idea what he was doing, and he shouldn't have attempted in the first place!"

"You're just jealous that he's accomplished more things than you have, Marcus," Hermione said in retaliation. "And besides, it doesn't hurt anymore, does it, Harry?"

"No," said Harry, getting into bed. "But it doesn't do anything else either.

Once Harry situated himself in his designated bed, Hermione and Madam Pomfrey came around the curtain. Sure enough, Madam Pomfrey was a large, skeleton-molded bottle that Marcus knew to be _Skele-grow_.

"You're in for a rough night," she said, pouring out a steaming beakerful and handing it to Harry. "Regrowing bones is a nasty business."

 _"And so is trying to get that crap down your throat,"_ Marcus thought as he could still recall the taste, even after all this time.

Once he downed the stuff, and Madam Pomfrey muttering about dangerous sports and inept teachers, she left Marcus, Ron, and Hermione to help Harry gulp down some water.

"We won, though," said Ron, a grin breaking across his face. "That was some catch you made. And Marcus, you looked absolutely amazing out there, being able to make the Slytherin Chasers look like dimwits. All of them looked ready to kill..."

"I want to know how Malfoy fixed that Bludger," said Hermione darkly.

"We can add that to the list of questions we'll ask him when we've taken the Polyjuice Potion," said Harry, sinking back onto his pillows. "I hope it tastes better than this stuff..."

"If it's got bits of Slytherins in it? You've got to be joking," said Ron.

"Well, Skele-grow is quite nasty, so it probably won't be too far off from that," Marcus said.

The door of the hospital wing burst open at that moment. Filthy and soaking wet, the rest of the Gryffindor team had arrived to see Harry.

"Unbelievable flying, Harry," said George. "I've just seen Marcus Flint yelling at Malfoy. Something about having the Snitch on top of his head and not noticing. Malfoy didn't seem too happy."

"Well, of course not, not with screwing up their chance at winning the match," said Marcus with a smirk.

They had brought cakes, sweets, and bottles of pumpkin juice; they gathered around Harry's bed and were just getting started on what promised to be a good party when Madam Pomfrey came storming over, shouting, "This boy needs rest, he's got thirty-three bones to regrow! Out! OUT!"

As the group of Gryffindors left the hospital wing, Hermione turned to Marcus and said, "I was wondering, Marcus: Did you grab some of Flint's hair during the match?"

They started making their way up to Gryffindor Tower as Marcus responded, "Of course. It was my only chance of getting the bit I'll be turning into when we do drink the Polyjuice Potion."

Marcus then said, "I'll have to see Harry tonight."

Ron looked at him weird and said, "What makes you say that?"

Marcus cupped his chin in thought and said, "I can't really explain it. It's my gut feeling, I guess. It just seems like the right thing to do."

The rest of the walk up to Gryffindor Tower was a silent one, not having too much of anything to say.

* * *

He waited until all the guys went to sleep. Only then did he cast the Disillusionment Charm and made his way through the common room.

He thought for sure that the common room would be cleared out by that time, which was well after dark. However, he was dead wrong.

Just as soon as got down the stairs, he spotted Lorelei Flamel on the couch, reading. He froze in place, cursing his rotten luck. He walked a few steps, trying to make sure he didn't make any noise. However, out of nowhere, he saw Lorelei turn her head, in his direction, almost as if she saw him.

She got up from the couch and slowly made her way over to his direction. He saw her squint her eyes, as if she was look through binoculars. He stood as still as he could, not making a sound.

She was within five feet of him when he heard a girl from the girl's dormitory say, "Hey, Lorelei, can you help me with my Charms homework? I can't seem to get this particular spell right."

"I'll be right there," she told the girl. She hesitated for a second, but then shook her head and went up to the girl's dormitory.

Marcus made sure to get out of the common room as quick as he could and, when he made it out, he took a big sigh of relief, but his victory was cut short.

He felt that intensive pain in his eyes, his world of color stripped away, his Negative Vision returning once again.

 _"Oh, no!"_ thought Marcus. _"That monster is on the move again! I've got to get to Harry!"_

He made sure to go as fast as he could to the hospital wing, looking around to make he couldn't see that pitch black object. Quicker than he expected, he arrived at the hospital wing.

He opened the door very quietly and closed it just as quietly. He looked to where Harry's bed was and found an unusual sight: A house elf was standing over Harry, peering down on him with his big eyes.

"Get off!" he heard Harry say and then he heard, _"Dobby!"_

 _"So, this is Dobby, the infamous house-elf,"_ thought Marcus. _"I'd better keep quiet for now."_

He slowly made this way to Harry's bedside as he heard Dobby whisper in a miserable tone, "Harry Potter came back to school. Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Ah sir, why didn't you heed Dobby? Why didn't Harry Potter go back home when he missed the train?"

 _"So, it was him that sealed the barrier, after all!"_ Marcus thought.

"What're you doing here?" Harry said, having heaved himself to sit straight. "And how did you know I missed the train.

Marcus saw Dobby's lips tremble, giving him away, and Harry must've put two and two together, because he then said, "It was _you_! _You_ stopped the barrier from letting us through!"

"Indeed yes, sir," said Dobby, who nodded his head vigorously, causing his ears to flap. "Dobby hid and watched for Harry Potter and sealed the gateway and Dobby had to iron his hands afterward." He showed Harry the ten long, bandaged fingers before continuing, "but Dobby didn't care, sir, for he thought Harry Potter was safe, and _never_ did Dobby dream that Harry Potter would get to school another way! Dobby was so shocked when he heard Harry Potter was back at Hogwarts, he let his master's dinner burn! Such a flogging Dobby never had, sir..."

Marcus was glad that he came to visit Harry tonight. He was hearing a veritable mine of information. He reasoned that he may be lucky enough to hear about the Chamber of Secrets, so he decided to stay quiet a little while longer.

"You nearly got Ron and me expelled," he said fiercely. "You'd better get lost before my bones come back, Dobby, or I might strangle you."

"Dobby is used to death threats, sir. Dobby gets them five times a day at home."

Marcus then heard Dobby blowing his nose on the disgusting pillowcase he wore, which looked pathetic in his eyes.

"Why d'you wear that thing, Dobby?" he asked curiously.

"This, sir?" said Dobby, who grabbed at his own pillowcase. "'Tis a mark of the house-elf's enslavement, sir. Dobby can only be freed if his masters present him with clothes, sir. The family is careful not to pass Dobby even a sock, sir, for then he would be free to leave their house forever."

All of a sudden, the house-elf's were the size of saucers as he suddenly stated, "Harry Potter _must_ go home! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make -"

 _"Your_ Bludger?" said Harry, the anger in his voice evident. "What d'you mean, _your_ Bludger? _You_ made that Bludger try and kill me?"

"Not kill you, sir, never kill you!" said Dobby, shocked by Harry's statements. "Dobby wants to save Harry Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here, sir! Dobby only wanted Harry Potter hurt enough to be sent home!"

"Oh, is that all?" said Harry angrily. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me _why_ you wanted me sent home in pieces?"

"Ah, if Harry Potter only knew!" Dobby groaned, more tears dripping onto his ragged pillowcase. "If he knew what you and Marcus Williams mean to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world. Dobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and the Dark Prince were at the height of their powers, sir! We house-elves were treated like vermin, sir! Of course, Dobby is still treated like that, sir," he admitted before drying his face on the ragged pillowcase. "But mostly, sir, life has improved for my kind since you and Marcus Williams triumped over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and the Dark Prince. Harry Potter and Marcus Williams survived, and the Dark Lord's and the Dark Prince's powers were broken, and it was a new dawn, sir, and Harry Potter and Marcus Williams shone like beacons of hope for those of us who thought the dark days would never end, sir...And now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen, are perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more -"

Horrified, Marcus thought, _"It's been opened before?!"_

Dobby then froze, horrorstruck, then grabbed Harry's water jug from his bedside table and cracked it over his own head, toppling out of sight and making Marcus wince. A second later, he saw Dobby crawling back onto the bed, cross-eyed, muttering, "Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby..."

"So there _is_ a Chamber of Secrets?" Harry whispered. "And - did you say it's been opened _before_? _Tell_ me, Dobby!"

Marcus saw Harry seizing the elf's bony wrist as Dobby's hand inched toward the water jug. "But I'm not Muggle-born - how can I be in danger from the Chamber?"

"Ah, sir, ask no more, ask no more of poor Dobby," stammered the elf, his eyes huge in the dark. "Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Harry Potter must not be here when they happen - go home, Harry Potter, go home. Harry Potter must not meddle in this, sir, 'tis too dangerous -"

It was at this point that Marcus had enough. He grabbed the elf by the neck from behind and hoisted him up into the air, surprising both Harry and Dobby. He could hear the house elf struggling for air as Marcus said, "I'll meddle in this, if you don't mind. I'm going to ask you a few questions, and I expect straight answers."

Dobby grabbed onto his hands and Marcus felt the house-elf using his own magic. Instantly, Marcus was rendered visible again.

"Marcus!" Harry whispered in surprise.

"Marcus Williams!" said Dobby. "It is an honor to finally meet you at last."

"Cut the niceties, Dobby," said Marcus. "Who was responsible for opening the Chamber of Secrets last time and when did it happen?"

"Dobby musn't tell, not even to the great Marcus Williams!" Dobby exclaimed. "You must convince Harry Potter to go home, sir!"

"We're not going anywhere!" Marcus growled. "One of our best friends is Muggle-born, and I'll be damned if either of us will allow her to be harmed if the Chamber of Secrets has indeed been opened."

"Harry Potter and Marcus Williams risks their own lives for their friends!" moaned Dobby in a weird, miserable ecstasy. "So noble! So valiant! But they must save themselves, they must, for they must not -"

Dobby suddenly stopped talking, and Marcus knew why: He could hear footsteps coming from the passageway outside the hospital wing.

"Damn!" he whispered as he let go of Dobby, got his wand out, started circling it around him, and whispered, "Absconditus!"

"Dobby must go!" breathed the elf, terrified. There was a loud crack, and Dobby the house-elf disappeared. Marcus had to concentrate in order to make the effects of the spell go faster, for to him to get caught now would spell utter disaster.

Luckily, the Disillusionment Charm was complete by the time the hospital wing doors were opened and Marcus saw Dumbledore coming in, back first, wearing a long woolly dressing gown and a nightcap, carrying what appeared to be a statue. Professor McGonagall appeared a second later, carrying the statue's feet. Together, they heaved it onto a bed.

"Get Madam Pomfrey," whispered Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall hurried past the end of Harry's bed out of sight. Marcus stood as still as he could, barely breathing. He remembered Harry telling him that Professor Dumbledore could see through his Invisibility Cloak, so it wouldn't be too difficult to see through his Disillusionment Charm, and Marcus didn't want that to happen.

Marcus then saw Professor McGonagall sweeping back into view, closely followed by Madam Pomfrey, who was pulling a cardigan on over her nightdress. She took a sharp intake of breath before bending over the statue on the bed, saying, "What happened?"

"Another attack," said Dumbledore. "Minerva found him on the stairs."

 _"So, I was right!"_ thought Marcus. _"My eyes freaked out on me because of another attack! I was hoping that this wouldn't happen."_

"There was a bunch of grapes next to him," said Professor McGonagall. "We think he was trying to sneak up here to visit Potter."

Marcus's heart plummeted by Professor McGonagall's statement. There was only one person, besides himself, that was reckless enough to try and visit Harry in the middle of the night. He risked moving his head slightly to the right and he happened to see a ray of moonlight shine through the window, which confirmed his suspicions.

It was Colin Creevey. His eyes were wide and his hands were stuck up in front of him, holding his camera.

Marcus felt really sad as Madam Pomfrey whispered, "Petrified?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "But I shudder to think...If Albus hadn't been on the way downstairs for hot chocolate - who knows what might have -"

Marcus, in that moment, thought of a terrible realization: It could just as easily had been him that had been attacked instead of Colin.

Dumbledore leaned forward and wrenched the camera out of Colin's rigid grip.

"You don't think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?" said Professor McGonagall eagely.

 _"I'm not counting on that,"_ thought Marcus as Dumbledore opened the back of the camera.

"Good gracious!" said Madam Pomfrey.

Marcus saw a jet of steam hissing out of the camera. He caught the horrendous smell of burnt plastic and struggled not to cough from said smell.

"Melted," said Madam Pomfrey wonderingly. "All melted..."

"What does this _mean,_ Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked urgently.

"It means," said Dumbledore, "that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again."

Marcus knew, in that moment, that things at Hogwarts went from bad to worse. Not only was the Chamber of Secrets confirmed to be opened, but there was nothing to lead him towards solving the mystery. Worse than that was there was more going on than petrification attacks, if Dobby's words were any indication.

"But, Albus...surely... _who_?"

"The question is not _who_ ," said Dumbledore, his eyes on Colin. "The question is, _how_..."

 _"I don't know the answer to that just yet,"_ thought Marcus. _"But, I promise that I will get to the bottom of this."_

 **And that concludes another chapter of HP: The Secret Path! Feel free to leave a review to tell me what you think about the story so far and, if you have any questions, feel free to send me a PM. I do check my account often, so I will get it. Until then, keep your eyes open for the next chapter of HP: The Secret Path!**


	12. (12) The Ultimate Progess Test

**Hello, everyone, this is marcwill90 here with another chapter of HP: The Secret Path! Before it starts, there's one little thing to take care...**

 **Disclaimer: No ownership of HP, save for OC's**

 **Now that the disclaimer has been taken care of, here's...**

Chapter 12: The Ultimate Progress Test

 **Enjoy, ladies and gentleman!**

It took a while, but eventually, Marcus was able to make his way back to the dormitory room. He changed into his sleeping clothes and lied on his four-poster bed. But, he couldn't sleep.

He couldn't sleep because the thought of something so terrifying as having the ability to petrify living beings was somewhere in Hogwarts. Somewhere in the castle, there was a monster that can attack anyone it desires at any given moment, and the teachers knew it. They didn't know what to do, but Marcus knew.

He knew he had to get to the bottom of this mystery. He knew that he had to find clues, no matter how small, and piece the puzzle together. And that was the most frustrating part.

In all the books he ever read in his life, not one paragraph ever mentioned a monster capable of petrification. And the little bit of clues he did have were not able to come together and make any sense of the great mystery.

And there was one other thing that bothered him greatly.

In both attacks, the victims became petrified. Yet, he couldn't help but feel that they should've died and somehow got lucky enough to escape with their lives.

* * *

Marcus woke up the next day and saw the note from Ron, saying that him and Hermione were going to be in Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom in order to get started on the Polyjuice Potion.

So, he headed there, being invisible as a precaution and didn't lift the spell until he had already arrived inside the bathroom.

"Hey, Ron, Hermione," he whispered. "It's me, Marcus."

"Over here," he heard Hermione say from what sounded like a few stalls down from the sinks. Marcus made his way there, they unlocked the stall, and Marcus said, "How's it coming so far?"

"Well, so far, it's coming along pretty well," said Hermione.

"What happened to you, Marcus?" asked Ron. "I happen to hear you come into the dormitory late last night."

"I was at the hospital wing trying to visit Harry, like I said I would," said Marcus. "But, it ended up being anything else but a visit."

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.

"I'll wait until Harry gets here," Marcus stated. "It's too hard to explain without him."

Almost like it was planned, they heard Harry's voice say, "It's me."

This surprised Hermione so much that she nearly fumbled the next ingredient that was to be put in the Polyjuice Potion. She peered through the eyehole and said, " _Harry!_ You gave us such a fright - come in - how's your arm?"

"Fine," said Harry, who squeezed into the rather spacey stall.

"We would've come to meet you, but we decided to get started on the Polyjuice Potion," Ron explained as Harry locked the stall again. "We've decided this is the safest place to hide it."

Harry started to tell them about Colin, but Hermione interrupted, saying, "We already know - we heard Professor McGonagall telling Professor Flitwick this morning. That's why we decided we'd better get going -"

"The sooner we get a confession out of Malfoy, the better," snarled Ron. "D'you know what I think? He was in such a foul temper after the Quidditch match, he took it out on Colin."

"At first glance, it would appear that way, Ron," said Marcus. "But, I still don't think Malfoy's behind these attacks."

"And what makes you think that evil git isn't behind these attacks?!" Ron asked him.

"Because his mannerisms haven't changed," Marcus simply replied. "If he was truly the person responsible for opening the Chamber of Secrets, he would have to keep it a secret, right?"

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but then thought about what Marcus said, and then closed his mouth again.

"Thus, he would probably not act like his usual self," Marcus continued. "Because the last thing he would want to do is bring attention to himself and having the teachers find out. But, nothing's changed with him, which means that he knows about as much as we do, but is just riding the Slytherin bandwagon. However," he said, raising a finger, "I still think going into the Slytherin House's living quarters will still provide some critical information, so the Polyjuice Potion is still vital in that regard."

"Speaking of critical information, there's something else that happened last night," Harry said as Hermione tore bundles of knotgrass and putting it into the potion. "Dobby came to visit me in the middle of the night."

Ron and Hermione looked up, amazed. Harry and Marcus then proceeded to tell them everything Dobby had told Harry - or hadn't told him. Hermione and Ron listened with their mouths open.

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened _before_?" Hermione said.

"Now do you see why I said that visit last night turned out to be anything but a visit?" Marcus told Hermione, to which she nodded her head.

"This settle it," said Ron in a triumphant voice. "Lucius Malfoy must've opened the Chamber when he was at school here and now he's told dear old Draco how to do it. It's obvious. Wish Dobby'd told you what kind of monster's in there, though. I want to know how come nobody's noticed it sneaking around the school."

Marcus facepalmed himself as Hermione prodded leeches to the bottom of the cauldron, saying, "Maybe it can make itself invisible. Or maybe it can disguise itself - pretend to be a suit of armor or something - I've read about Chameleon Ghouls -"

"You read too much, Hermione," said Ron, pouring dead lacewings on top of the leeches. He crumpled up the empty lacewing bag before looking at Harry, saying, "So Dobby stopped us from getting on the train and broke your arm..." He shook his head before continuing, "You know what, Harry? If he doesn't stop trying to save your life, he's going to kill you."

As they were leaving Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, Marcus felt his sleeve being grabbed by Hermione.

"What is it, Hermione?" said Marcus.

Hermione waited until Harry and Ron left the bathroom before saying, "I'm confused by something, Marcus."

"Oh?" said Marcus.

"Harry, Ron, and I have to take the Polyjuice Potion becuase we have no other means of getting into Slytherin House's living area," Hermione stated. "But, you can make yourself invisible. So why are you insisting on taking the Polyjuice Potion with the rest of us? Surely, you don't need to."

"Well, Hermione, even if I was invisible, they would still hear the sounds of footsteps and such," Marcus explained. "It would be much better to hide in plain sight."

"I don't think that's it," Hermione said.

"Well, I don't know what else to tell you, Hermione," said Marcus, who ran his left hand through his hair.

Hermione then gasped, almost as if she just understood something.

"What?" Marcus asked in confusion.

"You want to take the Polyjuice Potion because you want to see what's it like to be someone else, or more specifically, someone else that doesn't have your hair," Hermione told him.

Marcus cursed himself as Hermione continued, "But, I don't see why you feel that way, Marcus."

"If you had to go through what I went through, Hermione, you'd definitely understand," said Marcus with an unusually grim tone as he proceeded to leave Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

* * *

By Monday morning, the news that Colin Creevey was attacked, lying in the hospital wing as if he was already dead spread throughout the school like wildfire. The atmosphere of the castle was now thick of rumors and suspicion, which set Marcus on edge. Everyone that he passed looked at him like he was guilty of the attacks, which further upset him. He also saw that the first years started to move around in packs, obviously scared that they would be attacked if they went anywhere by themselves.

Of course, no one looked more upset than Ginny Weasley who, coincidentally, sat next to Colin Creevey in Charms. Fred and George tried to cheer her up, of course, but the way they went about it was all wrong. Marcus saw them taking turns covering themselves with boils or fur and jumped out at her from behind statues. They only stopped when Percy, who was overcome with anger and rage, told them he was going to write to Mrs. Weasley and tell her Ginny was having nightmares.

Meanwhile, to Marcus's utter disbelief, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective devices was sweeping the school unknown to the teachers, none of which was likely to actually work, but he knew that most of the students in the school were not educated enough to know any better. One such example was Neville Longbottom, who had bought a large, evil-smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal, and a rotting newt tail before Marcus had seen enough and told Neville that, due to him being a pure-blood, he was in no danger of being attacked.

"They went for Filch first," Neville told Marcus, his round face full of fear. "And everyone else knows I'm almost a Squib."

* * *

In the second week of December, Professor McGonagall came around as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas. Harry, Ron, Marcus, and Hermione signed her list; they had heard that Malfoy was staying, which struck them as very suspicious, to say the least. The holidays would be the perfect time to use the Polyjuice Potion and try to worm some information out of him.

Unfortunately, the potion was only half finished. They still needed the bicorn horn and the boomslang skin, both of which they were going to have to take from Snape's private stores. This made Marcus uneasy, to say the least. Out of all the teachers in Hogwarts, Marcus felt that one of the most perceptive was Snape.

"What we need," said Hermione briskly as Thursday afternoon's double Potions lesson loomed nearer, "is a diversion. Then one of us can sneak into Snape's office and take what we need."

All three boys looked at her nervously.

"I think I'd better do the actual stealing," Hermione continued in a matter-of-fact tone. "You two will be expelled if you get into any more trouble, and you," she said as she looked to Marcus, "would be noticed straightaway if you were to try and steal the ingredients, not to metion that I've got a clean record. So, all you guys would need to do is keep Snape busy for five minutes or so."

Marcus's face went grim. Deliberately causing trouble in Snape's class was perhaps one of the single most reckless things that a student could do at Hogwarts, something that not even Fred and George Weasley would dare trying.

Potion lessons took place in one of the larger dungeons. The lesson that afternoon started off in much of the same fashion. Twenty one cauldrons stood steaming between the wooden desks, on which stood brass scales and jars of ingredients. Snape prowled through the fumes, having nothing to say about Marcus's potion, as usual, and making waspish remarks about the other Gryffindor's work while the Slytherins sniggered in appreciation. Draco Malfoy, who was Snape's favorite student by far, kept flicking puffer-fish eyes at Harry, Ron, and Marcus, who knew that if they retaliated they would get detention faster than you could say "Unfair".

During this lesson, Marcus was on edge. They determined that Harry would set their plan in motion and he was waiting for Hermione's signal, but this didn't stop Marcus from worrying as much as he was. When Snape sneered at Harry's potion and went to bully Neville, Marcus saw Hermione catch Harry's eye and nodded.

The moment had arrived. Harry had ducked swiftly down behind his cauldron, pulled one of Fred's Filibuster fireworks out of his pocket, and gave it a quick prod with his wand. The firework began to fizz and sputter. Harry must've known he only had seconds to spare, because he straightened up, took aim, and lobbed it into the air; it landed right on target in Goyle's cauldron.

Immediately, Goyle's potion exploded, showering the whole class. Marcus could only watch as people started shrieking as splashes of the Swelling Solution hit them. Malfoy got a faceful and his nose began to swell like a balloon; Goyle blundered around, his hands over his eyes, which had expanded to the size of a dinner plate - Snape was trying to restore calm and find out what had happened. Through the confusion, Marcus saw Hermione slip quietly into Snape's office.

"Silence! SILENCE!" Snape roared. "Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draught - when I find out who did this -"

Marcus couldn't help but smirk when he saw Malfoy hurrying foward, his head drooping with the weight of a nose like a small melon. Half of the class made their way to Snape's desk with different problems. Some were weighted down by their arms that resembled clubs while others were unable to speak, due to their gigantic, puffed up lips. While everyone was receiving the Deflating Draught, Marcus notcied Hermione sliding back into the dungeons, the bulging in the front of her robes indicating that she was successful.

Once everyone had been taken care of, Snape swept over to Goyle's cauldron and scooped out the twisted black remains of the firework. The air around the students was instantly intensified.

"If I ever find out who threw this," Snape whispered, "I shall _make sure_ that person is expelled."

Snape then looked straight at Harry, most likely knowing that he threw the firework. Marcus knew that there was nothing to worry about; any evidence that could've linked Harry to the firework was lost the moment said firework made its way into Goyle's cauldron.

Ten minutes later, the four of them hurried out of class and made their way to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Once they were inside, Harry immediately said, "He knew it was me. I could tell."

Hermione threw the new ingredients into the cauldron and began to stir feverishly.

"It'll be ready in two weeks," she said happily.

"Snape can't prove it was you," said Ron reassuringly to Harry. "What can he do?"

"Knowing Snape, something foul," said Harry as the potion frothed and bubbled.

A week later, Harry, Ron, Marcus, and Hermione were walking across the entrance hall when they saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas beckoned them over, looking excited.

"They're starting a Dueling Club!" said Seamus. "First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind dueling lessons; they might come in handy one of these days..."

Marcus immediately felt excited for the first time in a long time. Finally, Hogwarts was going to have itself a dueling club, and he was actually going to get himself some actual dueling experience.

"What, you reckon Slytherin's monster can duel?" said Ron, but he, too, read the sign with interest.

"Could be useful," he said to Harry, Marcus, and Hermione as they went into dinner. "Shall we go?"

He was all for it, as were Harry and Hermione, so at eight o'clock that night, they hurried back to the Great Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared on the center of the Great Hall. It was a rather large stage; it had to be over 40 feet long by 20 feet wide, but it didn't stop most of the school from cramming inside the Great Hall, all carrying their wands and looking excited.

"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" said Hermione as they edged into the chattering crowd. "Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young - maybe it'll be him."

"As long as it's not -" Marcus began to say, but ended by facepalming himself. He saw the last person he wanted to see making his way onto the stage: Gilderoy Lockhart. He did so wearing robes of deep plum and, bizarrely enough, was accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black.

Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called, "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!"

He then continued, "Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occassions - for full details, see my published works."

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry - you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

"Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered in Harry and Marcus's ear.

Marcus saw Snape's upper lip was curling, and that was never good news. He wondered to himself why Lockhart was still smiling. Perhaps it was the fact that he was an idiot or perhaps too self-absorbed to notice, but Marcus did know one thing: If he saw Snape looking at him like he was looking at Lockhart, he would do everything in his power _not_ to be in the same vicinity as him.

Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed...well, at least Lockhart did, anyway with great emphasis. Snape, however, merely jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

 _"Yeah, I don't think Snape feels the same way,"_ Marcus thought as he saw Snape baring his teeth.

"One - two - three -"

Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: _"Expelliarmus!"_ There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed onto the ground, and did a couple of rolls before lying still on his stomach.

Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Hermione was dancing on her tiptoes. "Do you think he's all right?" she squealed through her fingers.

"Who cares?" said Harry, Ron, and Marcus together.

Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.

"Well, there you have it!" he said, tottering back onto the stage. "That was a Disarming Charm - as you see, I've lost my wand - ah, thank you, Miss Brown - yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy - however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see..."

Marcus then thought, _"So, that was the Disarming Charm. If used offensively, it's self-explanatory: It disarms your opponent so that they're left vulnerable, even if it's just for a short time. That'll be very useful. But, I wonder what were to happen if used in a defensive setting?"_

Marcus noticed Snape's face, which was looking downright murderous. Lockhart must've noticed, because he then said, "Now, perhaps it would be ideal to have two students demonstrate what will be taking place this evening." Marcus saw Lockhart look around until he saw him and Lockhart said, "Ah, there you are! Mr. Williams, why don't you come up here?"

Marcus could feel his chest pound in excitement as he hurried onto the stage and Lockhart said, "Now, all I need is another student, any student. Come, now, don't be shy!"

Marcus looked around rather eagerly, to see who would join him on the stage. But, his eagerness started to give way to worry as he saw that none of the students were moving. Rather, they were all looking away from the stage.

"Well, don't let Marcus's reputation worry you!" said Lockhart. "I assure you, it will be completely safe! Anyone at all willing to join Mr. Williams on the stage?"

"I believe I can be of some assistance, Professor Lockhart," said a familiar voice from the doors of the Great Hall.

Marcus looked to the doors of the Great Hall and his eyes widened: It was Professor Dumbledore! As he made his way to the stage, fervent whispers broke out from the students.

"Ah, Headmaster!" said Lockhart, ignoring the whispering. "So kind of you to join us!"

Professor Dumbledore at last was standing on the stage, making his way towards Marcus, who was starting to think it was a bad idea to be doing this.

"Professor Dumbledore, I really don't think this a good idea," said Marcus, who couldn't hide his nervousness.

"Oh, Mr. Williams, surely you could entertain this aging old codger with a bit of exercise?" asked Professor Dumbledore with a smile and a twinkle to his eyes. "I'm sure it will do me some good, after all."

Marcus mentally gave kudos to Professor Dumbledore: He talked in such a way that left Marcus with no other choice.

"Well, if you put it like that, sir, how can I resist?" said Marcus, who mentally steeled himself. He summoned his wand by opening his left hand, gripped his wand, and brought it up face-level.

Professor Dumbledore did the same way and Lockhart said, "I'll do the honors, gentlemen. Now, take ten paces and face each other."

As Marcus took his ten paces, he was getting more and more nervous. There was one thing he knew above all else: There was no way he was going to win this duel with Professor Dumbledore, who was widely known as the greatest wizard in the Wizarding World. As soon as he was done taking his ten paces, he faced him, enhanced his vision, and had to stifle his gasp.

With the vast majority of students, the aura inside them was about the size of a muggle soccer ball. With the teachers, it encompassed their torso and perhaps a little bit of their limbs.

With Dumbledore, it encompassed not only his entire body, but a sphere that extended somewhere between three and four feet around the headmaster's area. He knew that he was outclassed, but he didn't realize that Professor Dumbledore was in a completely different league.

He vaguely heard Lockhart say, "All right, gentleman: Fighting stances!"

He had to breathe deeply multiple times, to calm himself down. A thought then came to him: If he knew he wasn't going to win the duel, then perhaps he could put everything on the line, just to see how much progress he made since coming to Hogwarts.

Somehow, miraclously, the thought calmed him down. He then proceeded to hold his wand straight out towards Dumbledore, his right hand balled into a fist and raised it above his head, his left leg bent towards Dumbledore at a forty-five degree angle while he put his weight on his right leg.

He was sure that the students were whispering to each other, but he couldn't hear them. He was only concentrating on the moment.

"Three - two - one -begin!" shouted Lockhart.

Marcus then saw a sillouette of Professor Dumbledore shooting what he recognized was the Tickling Charm straight at him and then the real Professor Dumbledore mimicked the same movements that the sillouette was doing.

Marcus responded by twirling in order to get maximum power and shouted, _"Expelliarmus!"_

It took everything he had, but he saw the spell hit some kind of a barrier and deflect off of it, shooting directly back at Dumbledore, who deflected it upwards.

Marcus then saw Dumbledore's sillouette again, this time shooting off a plethora of spells, none of which he recognized and too many to use the Disarming Charm.

 _"Crap! Time to dodge!"_ thought Marcus.

Marcus had to use the most erratic of movements, but he dodged the first three spells, jumped over the fourth one, but didn't count on having a fifth spell coming at him just as he was landing.

Marcus panicked and instinctively raised his forearms in defense. The spell bounced harmlessly off the armguards and upward towards the night sky ceiling, but the force of the spell caused Marcus to careen head over heels. Quickly, Marcus forced his left foot downward and onto the stage to recover and used his right knee and right hand to hit the stage as well, making sure he kept his balance.

The adrenaline was rushing through every inch of his body. He tried to suppress it to no avail; the excitement was too much.

He felt a nasty grin on his face as he stood up and quicky shouted, _"Petrificus Totalus!"_

Dumbledore instantly put up an invisible shield around him, which caused the spell to split and go around him harmlessly.

Marcus emitted a low growl as he thought, _"Damn, I'm not going to be effective like this! Time to get closer!"_

He then started to run towards Dumbledore, who shot spell after spell to slow down his attempts in getting closer. Marcus dodged them all and, on the last spell, he jumped as high as he could.

As he reached the peak of his jump, Marcus held his wand out, started to continuously twirl, and shouted, "Incendio!"

In seconds, Marcus became a twirling spiral of fire coming down on Dumbledore. Then it happened.

Marcus seized up, his arms coming to his sides, his wand shot back up his left sleeve. He was as still as a board and the fire disappated.

He thought for sure he was going to come crashing onto Dumbledore until the headmaster raised his wand and Marcus halted in midar. He was slowly brought back down onto the stage feet first and Dumbledore lifted the spell on Marcus.

 _"The Full-Body Bind spell,"_ Marcus thought. _"I can't say I'm surprised."_

He returned his eyes to normal and his hearing started to work again: He heard the students whispering more fervently than before.

"Marcus, please, come with me," said Professor Dumbledore.

Marcus followed Professor Dumbledore to the doors of the Great Hall, only stopping to whisper something in Professor McGonagall's ears.

They then started walking. Marcus didn't really know what to say and Professor Dumbledore wasn't talking, either. They didn't stop until they found themselves in front of a large and extremely ugly gargoyle.

"Lemon Drop," Professor Dumbledore simply said. Marcus was then caught by surprise as the gargoyle suddenly sprang to life, hopping aside as the wall behind it split in two, revealing a spiraling staircase. Professor Dumbledore and Marcus started to walk up the staircase, the wall slamming back together behind them, until they reached a gleaming oak door ahead with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin. Professor Dumbledore opened the door and Marcus was greeted with a spectacular sight.

It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were staring down on the two of them. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and, sitting on a shelf behind it, a shabby, tattered wizard's hat - it was the Sorting Hat itself.

Still feeling resentful towards it for trying to put him in Slytherin House, he focused on Dumbledore, who took a seat in the High Chair behind his desk, gestured towards the two seats in front of him and said, "Please, Marcus, have a seat."

Not sure of what was happening, he cautiously took the left seat.

"I wanted to talk to you, Marcus," said Professor Dumbledore, who had a smile on his fully bearded face. "Do not worry, Marcus, you are not in trouble."

Marcus felt slightly relieved as he said, "What is it that you wanted to talk about, sir?"

"A few things, actually," said Professor Dumbledore. "First, I'd like to start by asking you to extend your arms out."

Marcus had a bad feeling about his request, but he did what was asked.

Professor Dumbledore then took the right sleeve of his robes and rolled him up to Marcus's elbow, revealing the armguard that was clasped to his forearm.

Marcus felt like his heart dropped to his stomach, having remembered what was told to him just before he left for Hogwarts : Do not let anyone find out about his armguards.

The headmaster said nothing as he looked closer at his right armguard through his glasses, occasionally rotating his arm.

Finally, he said with a smile, "I see that you've met Mr. Nilrem."

Shocked, Marcus asked him, "Wait, you know about Mr. Nilrem?!"

"Of course," Professor Dumbledore said. "Where was he this time?"

 _"This time?"_ Marcus thought before responding, "I encountered him at Diagon Alley, just before term started."

"I see," said the headmaster. "You should consider yourself lucky, Marcus. Not every witch or wizard has the pleasure of being able to buy from him. And, from what I see, you made the most of your visit with him."

"Of course, sir," said Marcus, not sure of what else to say.

"What interests me more is your left armguard," Professor Dumbledore said. He then asked, "May I?"

Marcus could only nod his head as Professor Dumbledore rolled up his left sleeve and saw Marcus's wand resting a little bit above the bottom of his left armguard.

"Ah, I thought so," he said, looking closely. "I see you've been busy, Marcus. If I may ask, how were you able to make this work?"

"It's a combination between a slightly weaker Hovering Charm and a magnet spell, which only activates when I fully open my left hand," explained Marcus. "I then overlayed the spells with the Infinity Spell, making them permanent, or as long as I'm alive."

"It is true, then," said Dumbledore. "You have managed to find the Room of Requirement."

Marcus felt a little crestfallen as he said, "You know about the Room of Requirement?"

Dumbledore nodded his head before saying, "Marcus, there is nothing wrong with trying to learn things on your own. In fact, you could say that the very castle you and your friends learn magic in is built specifically for such a purpose. You can only learn so much from classrooms and books, after all."

"What is it that you're trying to say, sir?" asked Marcus.

"We never stop learning, Marcus, never," said Professor Dumbledore. "It is only where we learn that changes. The decisions that we must make determines how much progress we make during our lives, or whether we make progress at all."

Marcus, in that moment, understood what Professor Dumbledore was trying to say. "You're basically telling me to not waste my time joining the Dueling Club, aren't you?"

"Unfortunately, yes," said Professor Dumbledore. "You must've felt it yourself, despite the initial excitement."

Marcus sighed and said, "I did. I just thought that it wouldn't hurt to get some actual dueling experience, that's all."

"I know," said Professor Dumbledore. "And, perhaps one day, you'll come across somebody that will be able to give you the experience that you'll need for life's challenges."

Marcus felt that he was alluding to something but, what it was, he had no idea.

"Professor, can I ask you one last question?"

"Certainly, Marcus," said the headmaster.

"During our duel, you took it easy on me, didn't you?"

"I did," said Professor Dumbledore. "But, do not think that that takes anything away from the accomplishments you made in our duel."

Marcus said nothing more as he got up from his chair and proceeded to leave Dumbledore's office.

* * *

Five minutes later, Professor Dumbledore heard a knock on the door. "Come in," he said out loud.

The door opened and a voice said, "You wanted to see me, Professor Dumbledore?"

Professor Dumbledore smiled as he saw the young girl with blood-red hair by the name of Lorelei Flamel made her way into his office.

"Yes, Ms. Flamel," said the headmaster. "Please, have a seat."

She then proceeded to take a seat in front of the headmaster's desk, not sure of why she was there...

* * *

Marcus made his way up to Gryffindor Tower, having mixed feelings about his conversation with Professor Dumbledore. He was glad that he was, so to speak, encouraged to continue his self-training in the Room of Requirement, but it also sounded like he didn't want Marcus to go showing off in front of the students. This suited him just fine. In fact, he may have gone overboard during his so-called duel with Dumbledore and would have to watch himself from now on.

He entered Gryffindor Tower, made his way up to the dormitory to change into suitable workout clothes, and made his way back to the common room. He turned to exit the common room when Harry, Ron, and Hermione burst into the area.

"What's going on, guys?" Marcus asked, but neither Ron or Hermione said anything until Ron pushed Harry into an armchair and said to him, "You're a Parselmouth. Why didn't you tell us?"

"Wait, what?!" Marcus asked in surprise as he made his way over to his three friends.

"I'm a what?" said Harry.

" _A Parselmouth!"_ said Ron. "You can talk to snakes!"

"I'm so confused right now," said Marcus.

"Oh, right, you weren't there," said Hermione, who quickly explained what had happened at the Dueling Club after Marcus left.

At once, Marcus looked to Harry and asked, "Has this happened before?"

"Well, I accidently set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once - long story - but it was telling me it had never seen Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to - that was before I knew I was a wizard -"

"A boa constrictor told you it had never seen Brazil?" Ron repeated faintly.

"So?" said Harry. "It's not any different from Marcus being able to speak to dragons."

"Oh, yes, it is," Marcus told him straightaway. "Mine is basically a forgotten language. Parseltongue is nothing but a bad omen."

"What's so bad about it?" said Harry, whose anger was starting to rise. "What's wrong with everyone? Listen, if I hadn't told that snake not to attack Justin -"

"Oh, that's what you said to it?" Ron asked.

"What d'you mean? You were there - you heard me -"

"I heard you speaking Parseltongue, snake language," Ron clarified. "You could have been saying anything - no wonder Justin panicked, you sounded like you were egging the snake on or something - it was creepy, you know -"

Harry gaped at them before saying, "I spoke a different language? But - I didn't realize -" He then turned to Marcus before asking, "How can I speak a language without knowing I can speak it?"

Marcus knew why Harry was asking him this question: He had ran into a similar situation with Norbert last school year, when he was able to talk to the dragon and no one else could understand what he was saying.

"There's only two things I can think of, Harry," Marcus replied. "One: That the ability runs in your bloodline and comes to you naturally, or two: that the ability to speak to snakes was somehow transferred to you. Either way, this isn't good."

"D'you want to tell me what's wrong with stopping a massive snake biting off Justin's head?" he said, looking to all three of them. "What does it matter _how_ I did it as long as Justin doesn't have to join the Headless Hunt?"

Marcus didn't have the heart to tell him. Hermione, however, spoke at last in a hushed voice, "It matters because being able to speak to snakes was what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. That's why the symbol of Slytherin House is a serpent."

Marcus saw Harry's mouth fell open as Ron said, "Exactly. And now the whole school's going to think you're his great-great-great-great-grandson or something -"

"But I'm not," said Harry with panic in his voice.

"You'll find that hard to prove, Harry," said Marcus. "He lived about a thousand years ago; for all we know, you could be."

He then left the common room, having nothing further to say.

* * *

As he was stretching, getting ready for his workout/self-training, a lot of things were running through his mind.

The fact that Harry was a Parselmouth threw everything off. How was it that he was able to talk to snakes? Surely, that's not an inherent ability within the Potter family, was it?

He tried to shake it from his mind as he said out loud, "Well, no use pondering about it. I just have to focus on what I need to do to make some pro-"

He then heard something he shouldn't have: The door to the Room of Requirement was being opened behind him.

He whipped around, his wand out, and was beyond shocked.

It was Lorelei Flamel, and she somehow was able to come into the Room of Requirement.

"How did you get in here?!" asked Marcus, his wand still pointed at her.

"Professor Dumbledore told me how to get into the Room of Requirement," Lorelei told him.

He cursed himself, thinking, _"Well, at least she's honest."_

"Even if he told you how to get into the Room of Requirement, it doesn't explain how you were able to get in here while I'm in it," Marcus said to her.

"Well, Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley both told me you do training to make yourself better," Lorelei explained, acting a bit shy. "And Hagrid also told me that you had your fair share of secrets, so I put two and two together."

Marcus felt his insides going cold. This was, by far, the worst situation he faced outside of fights. Not only did someone discover his greatest academic secret, but it had to be the one person that made him break out in a nervous sweat.

"Well, congratulations, you managed to find out one of my greater secrets," Marcus said rather icily. "Do you feel satisfied now?"

"Well, I didn't want our first conversation to be like this," Lorelei admitted. "But, I didn't have much choice. You have been pretty adamant in avoiding me."

"There are good reasons behind that," Marcus shot off.

"Like what?" Lorelei asked. She didn't ask in a rude manner, merely out of curiosity. "Please, I want to know."

"Because you terrify me!" Marcus yelled and immediately regretted saying what he said.

"Terrify you?" she asked. "How?"

"There are things that happened last year that I won't go into detail about," said Marcus, who faced away from her. His mouth seemed to be going off on its own, because he didn't want to say anything to her. "One of those things was seeing a girl that looked exactly like you in a mirror that scared me out of my mind. Then, you show up from practically out of nowhere. Now, you tell me: How would you feel if that same thing happened to you?!"

It was a while before he heard Lorelei respond, "Well, if it happened to me, I wouldn't know what to do. Honestly, I would think I was going mad."

Silence filled the air for a little bit before she continued, "Well, that explains why you were avoiding me. I can't exactly blame you for feeling that way. I'm really sorry that I put you through so much trouble. I'll leave you alone now."

He heard her take a few steps before saying, "Wait."

He turned to face her, who stopped herself from opening the door, her back facing him.

"Why?" he asked. "Why did you want to talk to me so bad? Surely, you heard the people around you talk about me."

She turned to face him, fighting the tears from her eyes, and replied, "Yes, Mr. Williams, a lot of people do talk about you. About how you're kind, about how you look out for people who can't look out for themselves. And I've heard people talk about how smart you are, how talented you are, and most of all, how mysterious you are."

She took a deep breath before continuing, "A lot of people talk about you, but I haven't noticed a lot of people talking _to_ you. I wanted to be someone who wanted to talk _to_ you, understand you, and maybe being able to being a friend to you."

Marcus felt like absolute garbage as she finished, "But I don't want to force you, Mr. Williams."

Marcus, unable to look at her, looked at the ground instead and said, "I'm sorry, Ms. Flamel."

He then had to fight the tears away from his eyes as he said, "I thought that you had it out for me. I thought that you were trying to make my life an absolute hell. And, all this time, you were just trying to talk to me, and I didn't even give you the chance."

He took a deep breath and continued, "I understand if you don't want to talk to me after this, but if you still do, if you still want to be my friend, then I would be glad if you were my friend."

His mind started to race. He didn't know what her reaction was going to be.

He didn't have to wait long, however. Immediately, she gasped and said, "Of course I still do!"

He looked up in surprise as she ran towards him. She stopped herself when she was a foot in front of him, took his right hand, shaking it, smiling and said, "I'm so glad, Mr. Williams."

Strangely enough, the icy feeling that was there all the times before this was suddenly gone. He felt a tidal wave of relief washing over him.

"I'm glad, as well," said Marcus. "And you can call me Marcus. Mr. Williams just sounds too formal."

"Okay, Marcus," she said with a smile. "By they way, what were you about to do?"

"I was just about to do my workout/self-training, actually," he told her.

"So, this is the place," said Lorelei, who looked around the room. "It's not much."

"It's the best place in Hogwarts to do it," Marcus told her. "This room provides the occupant with everything they need for whatever it is they're trying to do or accomplish."

"Oh, I get it," Lorelei said, "Perhaps -" but she broke off, mainly talking to herself as she continued, " No, I couldn't - it's too early - maybe I'll wait a little longer -"

"Or you could just tell me," Marcus said.

"Oh, sorry," she said. "Well, it's just that...well, I want to get better. I want to push myself in every way. I learn a lot already, but it just isn't enough. And, well, after seeing your duel with Professor Dumbledore, I figured you might be able to help me with that."

Marcus looked at her in amazement. She felt the same way as he did. And he didn't think he would ever meet someone like that.

"Well, there's only one thing to do, then," said Marcus. "We'll train together."

Her face lit up like a Christmas tree as she said, "Really?!"

"Of course," said Marcus. "You feel the same way I do, and it would be awful not to help someone like that. Of course, you'll start with one workout session a day, then work your way to two workout sessions a day, depending on how much progess you make."

Marcus then said, "Of course, along with different spells and such, I'll help you with two things: One is the Disillusionment Charm. The other is this."

He reached a book from the shelf, handed it to Lorelei, who looked at the cover and said, "How to -"

She then gasped and said, "This is possible?!"

"It is, but it'll take a long time," Marcus stated. "In fact, I'm still working on it. But, enough about that. It's time for your physical training. I hope you're ready, Ms. Flamel. I won't take it easy on you."

"You can call me Lorelei," she said. "And that's exactly what I want."

He then sat down and drew out her workout plan, a strange feeling of galvanization coursing throughout his body.

* * *

He woke up in the boy's dormitory the next day, getting around for his lesson in Herbology. However, Seamus Finnigan proceeded to tell him that Herbology was cancelled. One look outside was more than enough reason: You couldn't see anything beyond the window, due to their being a blizzard and, as Seamus told him, Professor Sprout wanted to cover the Mandrakes with clothes, which was something she didn't trust anyone but herself to do.

So, he got his morning workout out of the way, took a shower in the boy's dormitory afterwards, got dressed, and made his way down to the common room to find Ron and Hermione playing Wizard's Chess.

"Hey, Ron, Hermione," said Marcus. "Say, where's Harry? I thought he'd be here."

"He went off to find Justin Finch-Fletchley," said Hermione as she moved her left knight. "I think he's trying to clarify to him what happened at the Dueling Club."

"Oh, I see," said Marcus. He noticed that Ron and Hermione were into their game, so he left the common room, not wanting to bother them.

He then decided to go and see Hagrid. He hadn't seen him in a while, so he made his way down the castle.

However, when he reached the entrance hall, he saw Hagrid walking through the doors, wearing his moleskin coat and a woolly balaclava, all of which was covered in snow.

"Oh, hello, Hagrid!" Marcus said to him. "I was just on my way to see you."

Hagrid lowered his balaclava, revealing his bearded face, and said, "Ah, hello, Marcus. Wish I could stop and talk, but unfortunately, I have buisness to attend to."

"What kind of business, Hagrid?" Marcus asked him.

Hagrid raised his gloved right hand, which was holding a dead rooster, and said, "It's the second attack this term. It's either foxes or a Blood-Suckin' Bugbear, an' I need the headmaster's permission ter put a charm around the hen coop."

This interested Marcus greatly. He couldn't stop himself as he asked, "And when did the last rooster attack happen?"

"Well, I'd say it happened around Halloween, I think," Hagrid said, cupping his bearded chin with his left hand. "What makes ya ask, Marcus?"

"Oh, I was just -" Marcus began to ask.

Without warning, his eyes were suddenly feeling very strained, the pain was beyond horrible. And, just like before, everything he saw was inverted.

 _"Oh, no!"_ he thought, horrified. _"Not another attack from that monster?!"_

He turned away from Hagrid, wildly looking around and saw it: A few floors up was the pitch-black, cyndrilical object, moving about slowly, as if to strike.

"Uh, Hagrid, I just remembered, I have to finish my Transfiguration homework before this afternoon's class," he said as quick as he could. "I'll visit you soon!"

He then took off as quick as he could, knowing he had no time to waste. He manuevered between objects, jumped as many stairs as he could, until he managed to reach the same floor as the pitch-black object.

Eventually, following the object led him to a corridor that was rather cold, due to a draft blowing in through a loose windowpane, so the torches were out, but he could still see.

In fact, the pitch-black object was very close.

 _"Finally, I have you!"_ he thought to himself.

No sooner had he thought that that the pitch-black object shot out of view and, just as suddenly, his vision returned, the pain was gone.

Marcus was so pissed about the sudden turn of events that he was about to punch a wall until he remembered in time that there were other classes that were in session. He took deep breaths to calm himself, turned to face the hallway, and had to stifle his gasp.

He saw Justin Finch-Fletchley lying on the floor, but one look at him told Marcus everything he needed to know: He was petrified. It was obvious from looking at his face, frozen with shock, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. What caught him off guard was the figure next to Justin.

It was Nearly Headless Nick. But, he wasn't pearly-white and transparent like he usually was. No, he was black and smoky, floating immoblie and horizontal, just about six inches off the floor. His head was dangling and his face wore the expression of shock, just like Finch-Fletchley.

 _"So, they saw the monster,"_ Marcus thought. _"That much is obvious. And it looks like Justin got lucky, just like the two victims before him. Nearly Headless Nick, however, was not. But, there's not much you can do to a ghost other than what I'm seeing."_

He then noticed another strange sight: A line of spiders, scuttling away from the bodies very quickly, as if it was their mission to be anywhere but at that spot.

 _"Again with the spiders,"_ Marcus thought. _"That has to mean something. But what?"_

He was so concentrated on what the fleeing of spiders could've meant that he almost didn't hear someone tripping. He looked to find Harry, who looked like he was feeling ill.

He looked to see Marcus and whispered, "Marcus, is this -"

"Yes," Marcus whispered back. "It's another attack, But, there's not much -"

Marcus didn't get to finish, however, when a door right next to him opened with a bang. Marcus suddenly felt that their situation went from bad to worse as he saw that it was Peeves the Poltergeist shooting out of the door.

"Why, it's potty wee Potter and old geezer Williams!" cackled Peeves, knocking Harry's glasses askew as he bounced past him. "What's Potter and Williams up to? Why's Potter and Williams lurking -"

Peeves stopped, halfway through a midar somersault. Upside down, he spotted Justin and Nearly Headless Nick. He flipped the right way up, filled his lungs and, before Harry or Marcus could stop him, screamed, "ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!"

 _"YOU FREAKING BASTARD!"_ Marcus mentally roared.

Crash - crash - crash - Marcus saw door after door being opened and people started flooding the corridor. For several long minutes, there was a scene of such confusion that Justin was in danger of being squashed and people kept standing in Nearly Headless Nick. Marcus found himself being pinned against the wall along with Harry as the teachers shouted for quiet. Professor McGonagall came running, followed by her own class. She used her wand to set off a loud bang, which restored silence, and ordered everyone back into their classes.

No sooner had the scene cleared somewhat than Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff, arrived on the scene, panting.

 _"Caught in the act!"_ he yelled, his face stark white, pointing his finger dramatically at Harry and Marcus.

Marcus got his wand out, pointed it at Ernie, and half-shouted, "You obviously don't know what you're talking about, so do us all a favor and shut up!"

"That will do, both of you!" said Professor McGonagall sharply.

As Marcus released his wand, he saw Peeves bobbing overhead, now grinning wickedly, surveying the scene; Peeves always loved chaos. As the teachers bent over Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, examining them, Peeves broke into song:

 _"Oh, Potter, you rotter, oh, what have you done,  
You're killing off students, you think it's good fun -"_

"That's enough, Peeves!" barked Professor McGonagall, and Peeves zoomed away backward, with his tongue out at Harry and Marcus.

Justin was carried up to the hospital wing by Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department, but nobody seemed to know what to do for Nearly Headless Nick. In the end, Professor McGonagall conjured a large fan out of thin air, which she gave to Ernie with instructions to waft Nearly Headless Nick up the stairs. This Ernie did, fanning Nick along like a silent black hovercraft. This left Marcus, Harry, and Professor McGonagall alone together.

"This way, Potter, Williams," she said.

"Professor," said Harry at once, "I swear we didn't -"

"This is out of my hands, boys," said Professor McGonagall curtly.

They marched in silence around a corner and she stopped before a very familiar gargoyle.

 _"Oh, no!"_ thought Marcus. _"We're being taken to Dumbledore's office?!"_

"Lemon Drop!" she said. Suddenly, Marcus had a feeling of deja vu as the way towards Professor Dumbledore's office was being revealed and, before he knew it, he found himself in front of his office once more.

 **And that concludes another chapter of HP: The Secret Path! Please feel free to leave a review and tell me what you think or, if you have any questions, leave me a PM. Do not worry, I check my account daily. Otherwise, keep your eyes open for the next chapter of HP: The Secret Path!**


	13. (13) False Expectations

**Welcome to Chapter 13 of HP: The Secret Path, ladies and gentleman! Before the story can continue, here's...**

 **Disclaimer: No ownership of HP with the exception of the OC's.**

 **Now, here's...**

Chapter 13: False Expectations

 **Enjoy!**

Once the door opened, Professor McGonagall told Harry and Marcus to wait for Professor Dumbledore.

As they made their way in, Marcus was not at all pleased.

 _"Two visits to Professor Dumbledore's office in two days,"_ Marcus thought. _"This has to be some kind of a record."_

Then, he heard a voice say, "Bee in your bonnet, Harry Potter?"

He looked to find Harry wearing the Sorting Hat.

"Er, yes," Harry muttered. "Er - sorry to bother you - I wanted to ask -"

"You've been wondering whether I put you in the right House," said the hat rather smartly. "Yes...you were particulary difficult to place. But I stand by what I said before...you _would_ have done well in Slytherin -"

Marcus saw the look of disappointment on Harry's face, which was the reason why he didn't put the Sorting Hat on his head the first time he was in Professor Dumbledore's office: He probably would've gotten the same answer as Harry did.

Harry grabbed the point of the hat and pulled it off. It hung limply in his hand, grubby and faded. Harry pushed it back onto its shelf and said, "You're wrong."

Marcus then heard a gagging noise behind him and turned to the source of the noise. He gasped in awe.

Standing on a golden perch behind the door was a bird, but it wasn't just any bird; no, this was a phoenix. Marcus knew how rare these were; most overage wizards could go their whole lives without even seeing one.

However, it looked a bit worse for the wear, looking more like an overplucked turkey. The phoenix looked at them balefully, making that gagging noise again.

All of a sudden, the phoenix had burst into flames.

Harry and Marcus both yelped in shock and almost backed into Dumbledore's desk. Marcus suddenly realized: He was witnessing a phoenix's Burning Day.

He could only watch as the fireball that was the phoenix gave one loud shriek and became nothing more than a smoldering pile of ash on the floor.

The office door opened and Dumbledore came in, looking very somber.

"Professor," he heard Harry gasp. "Your bird - I couldn't do anything - he just caught fire -"

Marcus was caught off guard by Dumbledore's smile as he said, "About time, too. He's been looking dreadful for days; I've been telling him to get a move on."

He chuckled at the looks of Harry and Marcus's faces as he explained, "Fawkes is a phoenix, boys. Phoenixes burst into flame when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes. Watch him, boys..."

Marcus looked back at the smoldering pile of ash to see a tiny, wrinkled, newborn bird poke its head out of the pile and he couldn't help but wanting to take Fawkes for his own. He always did want a phoenix for his own, after all.

"It's a shame the two of you had to see him on a Burning Day," said Dumbledore, seating himself behind his desk. "He's really very handsome most of the time, wonderful red and gold plummage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers, and they make highly _faithful_ pets."

Marcus immediately approached Dumbledore's desk and asked the headmaster, "Professor Dumbledore, how in the world did you get a _phoenix_ as a pet?!"

The headmaster chuckled as he told him, "That tale will have to be saved for another time, young Marcus."

Marcus then heard the door to the office burst open with an almightly bang and Hagrid burst in, a wild look in his eyes, his balaclava perched on top of his shaggy black head and the dead rooster still swinging from his hand.

"It wasn' Harry or Marcus, Professor Dumbledore!" said Hagrid urgently. "I was talkin' ter them _seconds_ before that kid was found, they never had time, sir -"

Dumbledore looked like he was trying to say something, but Hagrid went ranting on, waving the rooster around in his agitation, sending feathers everywhere.

"- it can't've bin them, I'll swear it in front o' the Ministry o' Magic if I have to -"

"Hagrid, I -"

"- yeh've got the wrong boys, sir. I _know_ Harry and Marcus never -"

" _Hagrid!"_ said Dumbledore loudly. "I do _not_ think that Harry and Marcus attacked those people."

"Oh," said Hagrid, the rooster falling limply at his side. "Right. I'll wait outside then, Headmaster."

And he stomped out looking embarrassed.

"You don't think it was us, Professor?" Harry repeated hopefully as Dumbledore brushed rooster feathers off his desk.

"No, Harry, I don't," said Dumbledore, though his face was somber again. "But I still want to talk to the two of you."

Marcus then heard the headmaster ask gently, "I must ask you, Harry, Marcus, whether there is anything you'd like to tell me. Anything at all."

Marcus wanted to tell him what he knew so far, but then stopped himself. He only had theories and none of which had any evidence to back them up, and the few evidence that he did have would sound nothing more than random gibberish. If he was going to tell Professor Dumbledore anything, it would be solid, undeniable, evidence-ridden proof.

"No," Marcus said. "There isn't anything, Professor..."

* * *

The double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick had turned what was previously nervousness into real panic. Oddly enough, it was Nearly Headless Nick's fate that seemed to worry people most. What could possibly do that to a ghost? people asked each other; what terrible power could harm someone who was already dead? Regardless, it had a drastic effect on the students; nearly all of them were rushing to book their seats on the Hogwarts Express so that they could go home for Christmas.

"At this rate, we'll be the only ones left," Ron told Harry, Marcus, and Hermione. "Us, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. What a jolly holiday it's going to be."

"Well, I do know at least one other person that will be staying behind," said Hermione, who looked at Marcus with a mischevious grin.

"Okay, what's up with you?" said Marcus.

"I noticed that Ms. Flamel is in much better spirits lately," said Hermione, still wearing that mischevious smile. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Marcus knew she was asking a rhetorical question because she already knew. Marcus looked to Ron and Harry, who looked back at him with confusion.

"Yes, Hermione, we're friends now," he said, feeling the embarassment on his face. "Happy?"

"Satisfied," she clarified.

"And, yes, I was wrong," he continued. "She's actually really cool to be around."

Regardless, he was glad that the majority of students were leaving for Christmas. He didn't have to worry about people hissing to each other. From what Lorelei told him, they knew he wasn't actually the one responsible; that thought fell on Harry. They did think that Marcus had been helping him all this time, though, which wasn't better. It reminded Marcus of why he generally didn't like people: They always thought the worst of others whenever things looked bad.

Fred and George, to no surprise, found this all very funny. They went out of their way to march ahead of Harry and Marcus down the corridors, shouting, "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin and his trusty accomplice, seriously evil wizards coming through..."

Percy was deeply disapproving of this behavior.

"It is _not_ a laughing matter," he said coldly.

"Oh, get out of the way, Percy," said Fred. "Harry and Marcus are in a hurry."

"Yeah, they're off to the Chamber of Secrets for a cup of tea with their fanged servant," said George, chortling.

Ginny didn't find it amusing either.

"Oh, _don't_ ," she wailed every time Fred asked Harry loudly who he and Marcus were planning to attack next, or when George pretended to ward Harry off with a large clove of garlic when they meet.

Marcus found himself being amused by their antics. It was their way of saying how ridiculous the idea of him and Harry being the culprits was. But it seemed to aggravate Malfoy, who looked increasingly sour each time he saw them at it.

"It's because he's _bursting_ to say it's really him," said Ron. "You know how he hates anyone beating him at anything, and you two are getting all the credit for his dirty work."

"Not for long," said Hermione in a satisfied tone. "The Polyjuice Potion's nearly ready. We'll be getting the truth out of him any day now."

* * *

At last, the term ended, and a silence deep as the snow on the grounds descended on the castle. Marcus found it to be peacful, rather than gloomy. It reminded him of when he was younger with one slight difference: All the people that he wanted to be around were the ones that stayed behind. There was also another perk with staying behind for Christmas: Himself, Harry, Hermione, the Weasleys, and Lorelei had the run of Gryffindor Tower, which meant that they could play Exploding Snap loudly without bothering anyone and practice dueling in private, though Marcus was unanimously banned from that particular activity. Much to his chagrin, they didn't forget about his duel with Dumbledore.

They were in the middle of one such duel when Archie appeared, carring a letter and a bag.

"Hey, Marcus," said George, who happened to be watching the duel next to him. "What did Archie bring you?"

"Let's find out," said Marcus, who untied the bag and letter from Archie.

"Treats are next to my bed," Marcus told his owl. "You only can have two, okay?"

Archie then took off towards the boy's dormitory and Marcus decided to look in the bag first, which contained -

"Floo Powder?" asked George. "What on earth did you get sent that for?"

Marcus felt a bad feeling coming as he silently opened the letter and read to himself:

 _Marcus,_

 _Use the Floo Powder on the Gryffindor fireplace at 10 am Christmas Day._

 _Love, Mom and Dad_

Marcus felt the color drain from his face and said, "They're planning to visit me."

"Who is?" asked Lorelei, who sat next to him.

"My parents," he simply stated.

All activites ceased upon everyone hearing this statement. Fred was the first to speak, saying, "Your parents are coming here?!"

"Blimey!" said Ron. "I didn't think parents could do that."

"They obviously got permission from Dumbledore," said Marcus, who was worried. He looked to Hermione, who knew what that implied: Two Aurors being in Hogwarts could jeapordize their secret plan to infiltrate Slytherin House's living area via Polyjuice Potion.

"Oh, my," said Lorelei. "I hear they're quite good at what they do."

"Ms. Flamel, they're the best at what they do!" Percy said. "They are exactly what model citizens of the Wizarding World should be!"

"And they're also the best at turning Dark Wizards on their heads!" said Fred with a nasty grin.

"Can't imagine that feeling too well for those evil gits, I imagine," said George, pretending to have a stomach ache as he continued, "Probably makes them turn over their suppers."

Marcus didn't have much to say after that, though. He couldn't imagine why they were going out of their way to visit him.

* * *

Christmas morning dawned, cold and white. Harry, Ron, and Marcus, the only ones left in their dormitory, were woken very early by Hermione, who burst in, fully dressed and carrying presents for them all.

"Wake up," she said loudly, pulling back the curtains at the window.

Marcus groaned and said sarcastically, "I should've known better than to try and actually sleep in on a holiday when I have you for an alarm clock, Hermione."

"Har har," said Hermione as she threw him his present from her.

"Hermione - you're not supposed to be in here -" said Ron, shielding his eyes against the light.

"Merry Christmas to you, too," said Hermione, throwing him his present. "I've been up for nearly an hour, adding more lacewings to the potion. It's ready."

All three of them were suddenly wide awake, giving their undivided attention to her.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," said Hermione, who shifted Scabbers the rat so that she could sit down on the end of Ron's four-poster. "If we're going to do it, I say it should be tonight."

At that moment, Hedwig flew in. While Harry was giving his owl some attention, Marcus said to Hermione, "Tonight? While my parents are here?!"

"Look, I don't think they'll be here all day and night," said Hermione. "All you'll have to do is keep them busy long enough for them not to suspect a thing."

"You clearly underestimate my dad's power of perception," said Marcus.

"Hey, you proved that you were good at coming up with information in the heat of the moment, so now's your chance to really test that skill," said Hermione. "Besides, you already have the bit of who you're changing to, so you won't have to do what Harry and Ron will have to do."

"Fair enough," said Marcus. "And speaking of which -" He reached into the drawer next to his bed, drew out the vial that contained Marcus Flint's hairs, and gave it to Hermione. "-keep this safe with you."

Hermione nodded, taking the vial and putting it in the pocket of her robes.

He then looked at the time and said, "Well, it's five to ten. Better get dressed and get down to the common room fireplace."

With Floo Powder in hand, he took a pinch of it, yelled, "Williams Residence!" and tossed it into the fireplace.

The fireplace roared with green flames and, in the next second, he saw his Mom and Dad come through.

"Merry Christmas, Marcus," said Michael as him and Brynn hugged Marcus.

"You know you guys didn't have to come," Marcus told them.

"But, we haven't seen you in a while," said Brynn. "And we've been out of country for so long, this is definitely needed."

"But, I don't think it's necessary for your friends to hide themselves," said Michael, who then raised his voice and said, "All right, everyone. There's no need to hide. Fred, George, you can come out from behind those window curtains."

Marcus looked to find the Weasley Twins coming out from the window curtains and heard them say, "Blimey! That's wicked!"

Even Marcus was surprised. He didn't even realize they were hiding behind the curtains.

Eventually, everyone came to the common room...everyone except Lorelei Flamel, that is.

"Why, it's so good to see everyone again," said Brynn, who had all the other guys staring rather stupidly.

"So, Marcus, what is it that you want to do today?" asked Michael. "We have up until the Christmas Feast, after all."

Marcus was truly at a loss for ideas...that is, until he somehow stumbled across one that seemed to be perfect for the situation.

"I know!" said Marcus. "You, me, and Mom can investigate the attack scenes together!"

Michael looked at him with curiosity as Marcus continued, "A lot of the students and teachers are on edge because there's been three attacks and nothing to show who's done it. With the two of you here, perhaps something can be found that may have been overlooked and we can set everyone's mind at ease!"

Percy then said, "A swell idea, Marcus!"

Michael looked to Brynn and said, "Well, the Ministry has been rather antsy about this ordeal."

"I don't think Fudge would mind, either," said Brynn.

"All right, then," said Michael. "Let's go take a look at the scenes."

He then looked to everyone else and said, "I'm sure we'll all see you at the Christmas Feast."

As they made their way to the first scene, Michael said, "Now, Marcus, why don't you show us your arms? I want to see just how much you've been training."

Marcus extended his right arm perpendicular to his body as Michael started feeling his arm. "Yep, still going at it, twice a day, I see."

All of a sudden, Michael whipped back the sleeves of his right arm, revealing the armguard that was conformed to his formarm.

"Just like Dumbledore told me," Michael said. "You didn't tell me you met Mr. Nilrem, Marcus."

"That's because it was supposed to be a secret," Marcus said. "Mr. Nilrem did say that people would come after my armguards if they knew about them."

"Must've been during our trip to Diagon Alley over the summer," said Michael, who looked at the armguard closely. "You don't see too many metals with the blue-green color to it. I could see why you were told to keep it a secret."

It was at this point that they arrived at the first scene.

"Time of attack?" Michael asked Marcus.

"Discovered on the night of Halloween," Marcus stated. "Precise time unknown. Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was found petrified, hanging from the torch underneath the message on the wall as well as a massive amount of water on the floor."

Brynn immediately started looking at the message while Marcus took note of the surrounding area. "Looks like this corridor wasn't initially lit up when the perpetrator arrived. They had to light a torch in order to see, hence the scorch marks."

Marcus looked to Brynn and said, "Mom, can you tell what kind of blood was used to write the message?"

"It's rooster blood," said Brynn without hesitation.

Michael then diverted his attention to the message and said, "Whoever caused this attack was merely trying to send a warning."

"Well, yeah, that's what the message is meant to do," said Marcus.

"No, not just the message," said Michael, looking at Marcus. "The fact that the first victim was an animal and not a human conveys trial and error, or testing. The culprit wanted to see how seriously people would take this threat if it was on a small scale."

"I see," said Marcus. "I definitely didn't think of it like that."

He then heard a familiar voice saying, "Marcus, what do you think you're doing - oh, my."

He saw Professor McGonagall, who obviously stopped short when she saw his parents.

"Ah, Minerva!" said Brynn, who walked over to Professor McGonagall to give her a hug. "I see you're doing well."

"Not as well as you are, Brynn," the Transfiguration teacher said to her, forming a rare smile on her face. "I must ask, what are you and Michael doing here?"

"Well, we wanted to spend some time with our son," she told her. "And he suggested that we should take investigate the scenes of the attacks to see what we could find."

"Well, that was very clever of you, young Mr. Williams," Professor McGonagall told Marcus. She turned to look at Michael and said, "Goodness knows we could use your expertise on this matter."

"Do you know where the second victim was found?" Michael asked Professor McGonagall.

"Of course," she told him. "This way."

She lead the family to the sixth floor, specifically to the staircase that led to the fifth floor.

"He was found right here," she said, pointing to the middle of the staircase.

"And was this in the middle of the night?" Brynn asked.

"Yes, it was," she simply replied.

Michael looked around the area and must've noticed something Marcus didn't, because he pointed to a wall with loose bricks and said, "Was the victim facing this angle?"

"Why, yes, he was," said Professor McGonagall in amazement.

"It should be noted that the second victim was a first-year student who constantly carried around his camera," added Marcus.

"I see," said Michael. "I'm afraid this scene's not going to provide us with any more clues. Let's proceed to the last scene."

Marcus led the way back down to the corridor that he remembered so well.

"Well, here it is," said Marcus. "The third victim was laying about here and Nearly Headless Nick was about a foot or two away from him."

"What was the condition of Nicholas?" asked Michael.

"He was black and smoky, which I found very unusual," said Marcus. "They were both wearing looks of shock."

"So, they were caught by surprise from seeing an unpleasant sight," said Michael.

"I also noticed that, in at least two of the three scenes, there were spiders fleeing from it," Marcus said to his parents.

Michael and Brynn looked at Marcus in confusion as they said, "Spiders?"

"Well, I figured that, since it happened more than once, it had to be significant," Marcus explained.

Marcus then led them up to the final place, the hospital wing.

Michael and Brynn each looked at the victims before saying, "This isn't good."

"What do you mean?" Marcus asked them.

Michael looked at Professor McGonagall and said, "The culprit hasn't laid a hand on any of these victims. He or she is using another means to attack innocent victims. And the culprit is starting to get more bold with each attack."

"I don't understand," said Professor McGonagall.

Marcus, however, did.

"The first victim was an animal," Marcus said. "The second victim was a Muggle-born. The most recent attack was both a Muggle-Born and a ghost...wait, you're not suggesting -"

"Yes, Marcus," said Michael. He looked to Professor McGonagall again and said, "If there's another attack, there's going to be two human victims."

"If you don't mind, Minerva, we'd like to speak to Marcus alone," said Brynn.

"Of course," said Professor McGonagall. "I'll go and tell Dumbledore what you've found."

Once she left, Michael looked at Marcus and said, "Tell me your honest opinion about the victims."

Marcus had to take a deep breath before saying, "They were lucky, all of them. They should've met with a worse fate, but didn't."

Michael looked at all the victims and said, "I agree."

Marcus looked at him with surprise as Michael continued, "Your thought process is on the right track, but you need to stop and think from a different angle. Don't ask yourself how they came to be petrified. Rather, ask yourself how was it that they're still with us, despite their condition."

"So, do you know what's causing this?" Marcus asked eagerly.

"Unfortunately, we don't," said Brynn. "There's simply not enough clues to make any solid statements."

"Well, there is something else that's been bothering me," said Marcus.

"What is it, Marcus?" said Michael.

"In all three of the attacks, my eyes acted on their own. It'll get beyond painful, but my vision will become all inverted. Just what exactly does that mean?"

Michael looked to Brynn, who looked uncomfortable, but nonetheless said, "You remembered when I told you about past rulers and nobles having eyes just like you and me, right?"

"Yes, I remember," said Marcus.

"There was only ever one instance that their eyes would react on their own," Brynn stated. "And that was when they were in mortal peril."

"Mortal peril?!" Marcus asked in horror.

"That's why you have to be careful," said Brynn. "If your eyes should ever do that to you again, you need to be extremely cautious. Understand?"

"Yes, Mom," said Marcus.

Michael then looked at the time and said, "Wow, is it already that time? The Christmas Feast is nearly ready by this time. Come, let's make our way to the Great Hall, shall we?"

* * *

As much as he was dreading taking the Polyjuice Potion, that didn't take away from enjoy Christmas dinner at Hogwarts.

The Great Hall looked magnificent. Not only were there a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling. Dumbledore led them in a few of his favorite carols, Hagrid booming more and more loudly with with every goblet of eggnog he consumed while his parents shared stories of their more exciting cases, with everyone listening intently, oohing and aahing at the right moments. Percy, who hadn't noticed that Fred had bewitched his prefect badge so that it now read, "Pinhead," kept asking them all what they were sniggering at.

Eventually, Marcus, his mom and dad excused themselves from the table and made their up to Gryffindor Tower.

On their way up, Michael looked at Marcus and said, "Son, I want you to promise us at least one thing."

"What is it, Dad?"

"That you'll keep us informed if their are any more attacks, or if you should figure out anything critical."

"That I will, Dad."

No more words were exchanged until they were in front of the Gryffindor fireplace, where his parents wished him a good term and vanished into the fire.

Immediately, Marcus broke out into a run, going straight for Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, where Hermione was waiting for them.

"Finally, I made it!" Marcus said. "Do you have my vial of hair?"

Hermione smiled as she handed him his bit for the Polyjuice Potion.

"Harry and Ron are still getting bits of Crabbe and Goyle's hairs," she told him. "Once they return, we'll get started."

Marcus was feeling mixed emotions. On one hand, he was throuroughly excited to be someone else, or at least a person that didn't have his hair. On the other hand, he knew that drinking the potion was going to be no picnic.

The two of them then heard a soft knock on the door.

"Hermione?"

"Did you get them?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

Harry showed her Goyle's hair.

"Good. And I sneaked these spare robes out of the laundry," Hermione said, holding up a small sack. "You'll need bigger sizes once you're Crabbe, Goyle, and Flint."

The four of them stared into the cauldron. Close up, the potion looked like thick, dark mud, bubbling sluggishly.

"I'm sure I've done everything right," said Hermione, nervously rereading the splotched page of _Moste Potente Potions._ "It looks like the book says it should...once we've drunk it, we'll have exactly an hour before we change back into ourselves."

"One hour," Marcus repeated out loud, mostly to himself. "Got it."

"Now what?" Ron whispered.

"We separate it into four glasses and add the hairs."

Hermione ladled large dollops of the potion into each of the glasses.

Marcus looked back into the now empty cauldron. It was just enough for the four of them to drink it. He had to be very careful not to lose his portion of the Polyjuice Potion.

Hermione had nervously put her hairs in and the potion started to hiss loudly like a boiling kettle, frothing madly. A second later, it had turned a sick sort of yellow.

"Urgh - essence of Millicent Bulstrode," said Ron, eyeing it with loathing. "Bet it tastes disgusting."

"Add yours, then," said Hermione.

All three boys dropped their hair into their respective glasses. Once they were done hissing and and frothing, they looked at the results. Goyle's turned the khaki color of a booger and Crabbe's a dark, murky brown. But, Flint's was by far the worst. His was pitch black, like tar.

"Rotten luck there, mate," said Ron, who wore a look of disgust on his face.

"Yeah, don't remind me," said Marcus, who looked closer at his glass of Polyjuice Potion.

"Hang on," said Harry as the other three reached for their glasses. "We'd better not all drink them in here...Once we turn into Crabbe, Goyle, and Flint, we won't fit. And Millicent Bulstrode's no pixie."

"Good thinking," said Ron, unlocking the door. "We'll take separate stalls."

Marcus was super careful as he took his disgusting looking potion to a stall nearest to the sinks.

"Ready?" Harry called.

"Ready," came the voices of Ron, Marcus and Hermione's voices.

"One - two - three -"

 _"Bottoms up!"_ thought Marcus as he pinched his noise and tried to taste as little of the potion as he could while gulping it down. He was still able to taste the horrendous texture of tar.

He started feeling the effects taking place in his stomach and he thought, _"Any second now, any second now!"_

However, before he knew it, he felt it coming right back up and, before he could stop himself, he threw up every last bit of the Polyjuice Potion into the toilet.

He was on his knees, absolutely stunned, as he looked at the now worthless potion murking around in the toilet bowl.

He knew that Hermione didn't make a mistake. She ensured that she didn't, which was why she took so long to begin with. No, the only thing he could possibly think of was that his body somehow completely rejected the Polyjuice Potion before it could take effect.

It took all of his willpower not to cry in his stall as he thought, _"Guess it's Plan B, then."_

He took out his wand, his urge to be invisible more desirable than ever before, waved it in circles above his head, and said, _"Absconditus!"_

He made sure he was invisible before opening the stall, each moment fighting the urge to not cry and punch the hell out of the nearest wall. He then heard, "Are you three okay?" in Goyle's low rasp.

"Yeah," came the deep grunt of Crabbe from Ron's stall.

Marcus saw Harry unlocking his stall, looking exactly like Goyle. He approached the mirror and testing it out, so to speak.

Ron's door then opened and the two of them stared at each other. Except that he looked pale and shocked, Ron looked exactly like Crabbe, from the pudding-bowl haircut to the long, gorilla arms.

"This is unbelievable," said Ron, who approached the mirror and prodding Crabbe's flat nose. _"Unbelievable."_

"Marcus, come on out!" Harry said. "Let's see what you look like as Flint!"

The urge to cry was getting stronger as he said, "I'm already out of my stall, guys."

"Huh?" said Ron. "I don't see you, Marcus."

"It doesn't matter!" he almost shouted. "Let's go, we're wasting time!"

"He's right, we'd better get going," said Harry, loosening the watch that was cutting into Goyle's thick wrist. "We've still got to find out where the Slytherin common room is. I only hope we can find someone to follow..."

Ron, who had been gazing at Harry, said, "You don't know how bizarre it is to see Goyle _thinking._ " He banged on Hermione's door. "C'mon we need to go -"

A high-pitched voice replied, "I -I don't think I'm going to come after all. You go on without me."

"Hermione," said Harry, "we know Millicent Bulstrode's ugly, no one's going to know it's you -"

"No - really - I don't think I'll come. You three hurry up, you're wasting time -"

Before anyone could say anything, Marcus went over to the forms of Crabbe and Goyle, grabbed them by the ears, causing them to yelp in pain, and said in an angrier tone than he should have, "Let's go, we only have an hour before the two of you change back." He then said to Hermione, "We'll be back in an hour!"

He didn't let go of their ears until they were clear out of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and said, "Let's go, time's a wasting."

"Marcus, how come you're -" Ron started to ask.

"Later!" he said.

As the three of them headed down the castle, Ron muttered to Harry, "Don't swing your arms like that."

"Eh?"

"Crabbe hold them sort of stiff..."

"How's this?"

"Yeah, that's better..."

The three of them went down the marble staircase, Marcus still fighting his urge to emotionally explode. They had a mission to complete, after all.

"Any ideas?" muttered Harry.

"The Slytherins always come up to breakfast from over there," said Ron, nodding at the entrance to the dungeons. The words had barely left his mouth when a girl with long, curly hair emerged from the entrance.

"Excuse me," said Ron, hurrying up to her. "We've forgotten the way to our common room."

"I beg your pardon?" said the girl stiffly. " _Our_ common room? _I'm_ a Ravenclaw."

As she walked away, looking suspiciously back at them, Marcus thought, _"This is wasting our time! I'll just find the Slytherin common room ahead of them and then direct them there!"_

He then enhanced his vision and started walking down into the dungeons ahead of Harry and Ron. What he had to look for was a location that had at least one human behind a wall.

It took him a little while longer than he thought, but eventually he was able to find the entrance to the Slytherin common room, which to normal eyes looked like a stretch of bare, damp stone wall, but he could see several human auras from behind the wall.

 _"Well, finally, I find it,"_ he thought. _"Now, I just have to direct them here."_

He didn't take one step when he saw Malfoy, with what he knew to be Harry and Ron following closely behind him.

"What's the new password again?" Malfoy asked Harry.

"Er -" said Harry.

"Oh, yeah - _pure-blood!_ " said Malfoy, not listening, and a stone door concealed in the wall slide open. Malfoy marched through it, and Marcus made sure to slip in between Harry and Ron as they followed him.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantlepiece ahead of them, and just like Marcus had seen, several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in high-backed chairs.

"Wait here," said Malfoy to Harry and Ron, motioning them to a pair of empty chairs set back from the fire. "I'll go and get it - my father's just sent it to me -"

As Harry and Ron took their seats, Marcus situated himself inbetween the seats so that he wouldn't run the risk of bumping into someone else.

Malfoy came back a minute later, holding what looked like a newspaper clipping. He thrust it under Ron's nose.

"That'll give you a laugh," he said.

Marcus looked over Ron's shoulders and read the clipping from the _Daily Prophet:_

 **INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC  
** Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Aritifacts Office, was today fined fifty Gallleons for bewitching a Muggle car.  
Mr. Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, where the enchanted car crashed earlier this year, called today for Mr. Weasley's resignation.  
"Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr. Malfoy told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immeidately."  
Mr. Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off of she'd set the family ghoul on them.

Marcus silently cringed at the article.

"Well?" said Malfoy impatiently as Harry handed the clipping back to him. "Don't you think it's funny?"

"Ha, ha," said Harry bleakly.

"Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go and join them," said Malfoy scornfully. "You'd never know the Weasleys were purebloods, they way they behave."

Marcus noticed Ron's - or rather, Crabbe's - face contorting with fury.

"What's up with you, Crabbe?" snapped Malfoy.

Marcus gave Ron a pinch in the neck to remind him to keep his cool and Ron quickly grunted, "Stomachache."

"Well, go up to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick from me," said Malfoy, snickering. "You know, I'm surprised the _Daily Prophet_ hasn't reported all these attacks yet," he went on thoughtfully. "I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Father always said old Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns. A decent headmaster would never've let slime like that Creevey in."

Malfoy started taking pictures with an imaginary camera and did a cruel but accurate impression of Colin: "Potter, can I have your picture, Potter? Williams, can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes, please, Potter, Williams?"

He dropped his hands and looked at Harry and Ron.

"What's the _matter_ with you two?"

Marcus watched in horror as Harry and Ron forced themselves to laugh much too late, but Malfoy seemed satisfied; Marcus found it hard to believe there would ever people that was that slow on the uptake, but somehow, it worked to Harry and Ron's advantage.

"Saint Potter, the Mudbloods' friend, and mighty Williams, Champion of the weak," said Malfoy slowly. "They're examples of people with no proper wizard feeling, or they wouldn't go around with that jumped-up Granger Mudblood. And people think _they're_ directly involved with the Chamber of Secrets!"

Any second now, Marcus would hear the truth from Malfoy.

"I _wish_ I knew who the real Heir of Slytherin _is_ ," said Malfoy petulantly. "I could help them."

 _"I thought as much,"_ thought Marcus.

Harry then quickly said, "You must have some idea who's behind it all..."

"You know I haven't, Goyle, how many times do I have to tell you?" snapped Malfoy. "And Father won't tell me _anything_ about the last time the Chamber was opened either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing - last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood _died_. So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them's killed this time...I hope it's Granger," he said with relish.

 _"So, the last time this happened, someone actually died,"_ Marcus noted. _"I'll have to put that in with the rest of the clues."_

Having heard enough, Marcus took silent steps to the entrance door, opened it as silently as he could, closed it just as quietly and, once he had enough space between him and the door, took off for Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

In Marcus's mind, it was not a complete waste of time. Rather, he learned one very important thing: That the monster was indeed capable of killing living beings. But, if that was the case, how come all the victims were merely petrified?

Once he made it into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, he lifted the Disillusionment Charm and said, "Hermione, I'm back! Harry and Ron should be along in about ten minutes."

"Did your potion wear off early, Marcus?" she asked rather high-pitched.

"It -" he took a deep breath before saying, "It never took effect. My body completely rejected the potion before it could do anything."

"What?!" said Hermione. "How?!"

"I don't know!" Marcus shouted, still troubled by it. "I'm just as confused as you are!"

Just then, he saw Harry and Ron entering the bathroom, Ron saying, "Well, it wasn't a complete waste of time," Ron panted, closing the bathroom door behind them. "I know we still haven't found out who's doing the attacks, but I'm going to write to Dad tomorrow and tell him to check under the Malfoy's drawing room."

Harry went to check himself in the mirror while Ron hammered on the door of Hermione' stall.

"Hermione, come on, we've got loads to tell you -"

"Go away!" Hermione sqeaked.

Harry, Ron, and Marcus all looked at each other.

"What's the matter?" said Ron. "You must be back to normal by now, we are -"

But Moaning Myrtle glided suddenly through the stall door. Harry had never seen her looking so happy.

"Ooooooh, wait till you see," she said. "It's _awful_ -"

They heard the lock slide back and Hermione emerged, sobbing, her robes pulled up over her head.

"What's up?" said Ron uncertaintly. "Have you still got Millicent's nose or something?"

Hermione let her robes fall and Ron backed into the sink while Marcus gasped, "Oh, no."

Her face was covered in black fur. Her eyes had turned yellow and there were long, pointed ears poking through her hair.

"It was a c-cat hair!" she howled. "M-Millicent Bulstrode m-must have a cat! And the p-potion isn't supposed to be used for animal transformations!"

"Uh-oh," said Ron.

"You'll be teased something _dreadful_ ," said Myrtle happily.

"Crap, Hermione," said Marcus. "This could take weeks to wear off!"

"It's okay, Hermione," said Harry quickly. "We'll take you up to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey never asks too many questions..."

It took a long time to persuade Hermione to leave the bathroom. As Moaning Myrtle sped them on their way with a hearty guffaw, gleefulling saying, "Wait till everyone finds out you've got a _tail_!" All of Marcus's previous hatred towards his failure of the Polyjuice Potion vanished. After all, despite how bizarre it was, it was better that it didn't work than to be potentially stuck in Hermione's predicament.

 **And that concludes the most recent chapter of HP: The Secret Path! Feel free to leave a review and say what you think about the story so far or, if you have any questions, please feel free to leave me a PM. I promise, I will read it. Until then, stay tuned for the next chapter of HP: The Secret Path!**


	14. (14) Poems and Passages

**Hello, ladies and gentleman, and welcome to another chapter of HP: The Secret Path! Now, normally, I wouldn't post another chapter this soon, but seeing as I won't be in a position to post tomorrow, I figured I'd go ahead and post this now :) Before it starts, however, I'll need to get this out of the way...**

 **Disclaimer: No ownership of HP with the exceptions of the OC's.**

 **Now, here's...**

Chapter 14: Poems and Passages

 **Enjoy, everyone!**

As Hermione spent the next several weeks in the hospital wing, waiting for the effects of the Polyjuice Potion to finally wear off, Marcus worked his butt off to train himself, train Lorelei, and try to piece the clues together. He felt that, if he had just one more clue, he could solve a great portion of the mystery. He already had a lot of important clues, such as the spiders, the condition of the victims, the fact that the one committing the attacks could actually kill, and even the dead roosters. But, what was the missing link? Was was the thing that was able to tie all of them together? In this regard, he had nothing.

Marcus bumped his evening workouts with Lorelei up to an earlier time so that himself, Harry, and Ron could visit her, which included bringing her homework when the term started.

"If I'd sprouted whiskers, I'd take a break from work," said Ron, tipping a stack of books onto Hermione's beside table one evening.

"Don't be silly, Ron, I've got to keep up," said Hermione briskly. Her spirits were greatly improved by the fact that all the hair had gone from her face and her eyes were turning slowly back to brown. "I don't suppose you've got any new leads?" she added in whisper, so that Madam Pomfrey couldn't hear her.

"Nothing," said Harry gloomily.

"I was so _sure_ it was Malfoy," said Ron, for about the hundreth time.

"And now we know for sure it's not," said Marcus what he felt like the hundreth time. "I still think the visit was still productive, regardless."

"What's that?" asked Harry, pointing to something gold sticking out from under Hermione's pillow.

"Just a get well card," said Hermione hastily, trying to poke it out of sight, but Ron was too quick for her. He pulled it out, flicked it open, and read aloud:

 _"To Miss Granger, wishing you a speedy recovery, from your concerned teacher, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of_ Witch Weekly _'s Most-Charming-Smile Award."_

Marcus looked at her in disugst as he said exasperately, "You sleep with this junk under your _pillow_?"

But Hermione was spared answering by Madam Pomfrey sweeping over with her evening dose of medicine.

"Is Lockhart the smarmiest bloke you've ever met, or what?" Ron said to Marcus and Harry as they left the infirmary and started up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower. Snape had given them so much homework that even Marcus was having a tough time finishing it all. Out of nowhere, however, Marcus heard an angry outburst from the floor above.

"That's Filch," Harry muttered as they hurried up the stairs and paused, out of sight, listening hard.

"You don't think someone else's been attacked?" said Ron tensely.

 _"Let's hope not!"_ thought Marcus as they stood still, their heads inclined toward Filch's voice, which sounded quite hysterical.

 _"- even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore -"_

His footsteps receded along the out-of-sight corridor and they heard a distant door slam.

They poked their heads around the corner. Filch had clearly been manning his usual lookout post: They were once again on the spot where Mrs. Norris had been attacked. They saw at a glance what Filch had been shouting about. A great flood of water stretched over half the corridor, and it looked as though it was still seeping from under the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Now that Filch had stopped shouting, they could hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.

" _Now_ what's up with her?" said Ron.

"She's probably bawling her ghostly eyes out," Marcus reasoned.

"Let's go and see," said Harry, and holding their robes over their ankles they stepped through the great wash of water to the door bearing its usual out of order sign, ignored it as always, and entered.

Just as Marcus suspected, Moaning Myrtle was crying louder and harder than ever before, which was something Marcus didn't think was possible. From the sounds she was emitted, she had to be hiding down her usual toilet. It was dark in the bathroom because the candles had been extinguished in the great rush of water that had left both walls and floor soaking wet.

"What's up, Myrtle?" said Harry.

"Who's that?" glugged Myrtle miserable. "Come to throw something else at me?"

Marcus waded to her stall and said, "Don't be ridiculous, Myrtle! None of us are going to throw anything at you!"

"That's not true!" Myrtle shouted, emerging with a wave of yet more water, which splashed onto the already sopping floor. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me..."

"But, it can't hurt you if someone throws something at you," said Harry, reasonable. "I mean, it'd just go right through you, wouldn't it?"

Marcus facepalmed himself in agony. Sure enough, Myrtle puffed herself up and shrieked, "Let's all throw books at Myrtle, because _she_ can't feel it! Ten points if you get can through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head! Well, ha, ha, ha! What a lovely game, I _don't_ think!"

"Just _who_ threw the book at you, anyway, Myrtle?" said Marcus, his patience with the whining ghost already short.

Myrtle glared at Marcus before responding, " _I_ don't know...I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head. "It's over there, it got washed out..."

Marcus looked under the sink where Myrtle was pointing. A small, thin book laid there. It had a shabby black cover and was as wet as everything else in the bathroom. Harry stepped forward to pick it up, but Ron and Marcus suddenly flung out an arm to hold him back.

"What?" said Harry.

"Are you crazy?" said Ron. "It could be dangerous."

 _"Dangerous?"_ said Harry, laughing. "Come off it, how could it be dangerous?"

"You'd be surprised, said Ron, who looked apprehensively at the book. "Some of the books the Ministry's confiscated - Dad's told me - there was one that burned your eyes out."

"And don't forget about _Sonnets of a Sorcerer_ ," Marcus told Ron. "Everyone who read that book spoke in limericks for the rest of their lives."

"And some old witch in Bath had a book that you could _never stop reading_!" Ron exclaimed.

"Right, I remember about that!" Marcus said to Ron. "She kept wandering around with their nose in the book, trying to do everthing one-handed."

"All right, I've got the point," said Harry. "Well, we won't find out unless we look at it."

As he went to pick it up, Marcus enhanced his vision and didn't like what he saw.

He saw a ominous black aura around the book, which to Marcus, screamed nothing but bad news. He looked over one of Harry's shoulders to see the name "T.M. Riddle" in smudged ink on the first page.

"Hang on," said Ron, who had approached cautiously and was looking over Harry's other shoulder. "I know that name... T.M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago."

Marcus looked at Ron in astonishment as Harry asked, "How on earth d'you know that?"

"Because Filch made me polish his shield about fifty times in detention," said Ron resentfully. "That was the one I burped slugs all over. If you'd wiped slime off a name for an hour, you'd remember it, too."

"Fair enough," said Marcus as he returned his vision to normal, watching Harry peeling the wet pages apart. For having it being fifty years ago, it confused Marcus to see the pages being blank.

"He never wrote in it," said Harry, who sounded disappointed.

"I wonder why someone wanted to flush it away?" said Ron curiously.

"He must've been Muggle-born," said Harry thoughtfully. "To have bought a diary from Vauxhall Road..."

"Well, it's not much use to you," said Ron. He dropped his voice. "Fifty points if you can get it through Myrtle's nose."

Marcus gave Ron a death stare that caused Ron to cease with his joking before the three of made their way out of the bathroom.

* * *

Before he knew it, he found himself on the last day of the month of January, going through the last class of the day, which unfortunately, was double Potions.

The time went by slow, but eventually, there was only ten minutes left of class.

Marcus, as usual, managed to get the potion done correctly and he felt satisfied with it...until Snape came and looked at it.

He looked closely at the contents of his cauldron, then looked at Marcus and said, "Well, well, Mr. Williams. Looks like you're trying to take Ms. Granger's place of being the sufferable know-it-all in this class. You just lost Gryffindor House ten points. Do us all a favor, Mr. Williams, and stop trying to show off."

Marcus was outraged. He did what he was told, and he lost points?! Snape walked away, and Marcus had half a mind to beat the hell out of him, teacher or not.

"Marcus, calm down!" Ron hissed. "We all know it's not worth it."

Marcus hissed back, "Man, if looks could kill, he'd already be six feet under!"

If looks could kill...

Suddenly, he remembered something from his childhood...

* * *

 _It was late that night. He was already tucked in, and his Mom was sitting right next to him on the bed. "Ready for your bedtime story, Marcus?"_

 _"Yes, Mom, I am," he said with a smirk on his face._

 _"What kind of story do you want to hear tonight?" she asked him._

 _Marcus thought for a whole minute before saying, "I want to hear a horror story!"_

 _"A horror story?" repeated his Mom. "Well, I think I have just the one."_

 _"Really?"_

 _"Yes," said his Mom. "It involves a creature that can kill a person just by looking at them."_

 _He shuddered before saying, "What kind of creature can do that?"_

 _"The King of Serpents," said his Mom._

* * *

The title rang through his mind. Suddenly, all of his clues, everything he gathered over the school year, clicked together.

"Oh," said Marcus before the realization set in and then he shouted, "OH!" before clapping his hands over his mouth.

He looked around in the dungeon quickly and noticed that everyone was staring at him in confusion.

Marcus quickly uncupped his mouth and said, "I forgot to write today's lesson down for Hermione." He smirked before saying, "Sorry about that."

Just then, the bell rang, and before Harry or Ron could talk to him, he gathered his things as quickly as he could and took off from the dungeon.

He didn't slow down as he made his way up the castle, only stopping in Gryffindor Tower to drop off his things, and went straight to the room of Requirement.

Lorelei was there, waiting for him. "Hello, Mar- what's going on?"

"Give me a minute, Lorelei," he said before he said aloud, "Room! Give me a book that'll explain the details regarding the King of Serpents!"

He then noticed a rather old, thick book appearing on the desk in the middle of the room. He rushed over to it, flipped the pages haphazardly until he reached the page he was looking for.

 _Of the many and fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from it deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it, and the Victory Dragon, whom all creatures fear._

Marcus couldn't believe it. He felt so stupid!

"Marcus, talk to me, please," said Lorelei.

He looked to her and said, "Slytherin's monster, the one that resides in the Chamber of Secrets, is a basilisk!"

"What?!" said Lorelei, shocked. "But, Marcus, how do you know?!"

"Think about it, Lorelei!" said Marcus, who hurriedly paced back and forth. "The basilisk has the power to kill people by looking at them! But, why do you think no one's died yet?"

When Lorelei didn't respond, he continued, "It's because no one's looked it directly in the eyes! The attack on Halloween, Mrs. Norris saw the snake in the puddle of water! And when Colin Creevey was attacked, he saw that Basilisk through the lens of the camera. Justin Finch-Fletchley saw the snake through Nearly Headless Nick, who took the full brunt of the stare!"

Lorelei gasped in horror as Marcus continued, who was on a roll.

"Spiders were feeling the scenes, not because of the bodies, but because they could sense the Basilisk moving about in the castle! And whoever is controlling the Basilisk went out of their way to kill the roosters here at Hogwarts, because it is the only known thing that is fatal to a Basilisk. Oh, this makes so much sense now! Everyone that was attacked should've died, but because they all had something or someone that weakened the Basilisk's stare, they were only petrified!"

"But, wait, Marcus!" Lorelei exclaimed. "If it's true, and there's a giant, murderous snake in the castle, how has it been getting around without being seen?"

Marcus hesistated before saying, "That's a good question. How has it been doing it?" Marcus started pacing again, muttering, "How can it not be seen? Wait, seen?" He then gasped and said, "That's it!"

"What's it?" asked Lorelei.

"The Basilisk has been using the plumbing inside the castle to get around!" said Marcus. "In all three attacks, when it was moving around the castle, my eyes reacted to it on it's own. That pitch-black, cyndrilical object I've been seeing in my Negative Vision...it's the body of the Basilisk! I've been able to see it through the walls while it was using the pipes to get around. And the times where Harry was able to hear it is because he can hear it talk due to his ability of being a Parselmouth! Holy crap! Everything fits!"

Lorelei was silent for the longest time before saying, "We can't go to the teachers about this, can we?"

Marcus replied, "Unfortunately, Lorelei. Even though I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the moster attacking Muggle-Borns is a Basilisk, there's nothing to prove it. And anyone who could tell us is up at the hospital wing, stiff as a board."

Marcus felt a lot better about the mystery, now that he knew about the Basilisk. At the same time, he never felt more fearful in his life.

In his current condition, if he were to go up against the King of Serpents now, he would most definitely lose. It was too fast, too agile, and he didn't have an answer for the Basilisk's murderous stare, which he didn't like one bit.

However, if he was something else...

"Lorelei, we're changing things up a bit," said Marcus.

"What do you mean?" said Lorelei.

"We're going to put more empthasis on the Disillusionment Charm training and our top-secret project," he said, re-drafting the training plan.

"You think that's going to help?" she asked him.

"Honestly, I think that's the only shot we'll have," he told her, his face grim.

"Well, let's get to training, then," said Lorelei. "We don't have any time to waste."

"My thoughts exactly," said Marcus as they immediately started their new training regime.

* * *

Hermione left the hospital, de-whiskered, tail-less, and fur-free the next day. On her first evening back in Gryffindor Tower, Harry showed her T.M. Riddle's diary and told her the story of how they had found it.

"Oooh, it might have hidden powers," said Hermione enthusiastically, taking the diary and looking at it closely.

"If it has, it's hiding them very well," said Ron. "Maybe it's shy. I don't know why you don't just chuck it, Harry."

"I wish I knew why someone _did_ try to chuck it," said Harry. "I wouldn't mind knowing how Riddle got an award for special services to Hogwarts either."

"Could've been anything," said Ron. "Maybe he got thirty O.W.L.s or saved a teacher from the giant squid. Maybe he murdered Myrtle; that would've done everyone a favor..."

But Marcus could tell from the arrested look on Hermione's face that she was thinking what he was thinking.

"What?" said Ron, looking from one to the other.

"Well, the Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago, wasn't it?" Harry said. "That's what Malfoy said."

"Yeah..." said Ron slowly.

"And _this diary_ is fifty years old," said Hermione, tapping it excitedly.

"So?"

Marcus, who lost his patience with Ron, snapped, "Oh, Ron, wake up! We know the person who opened the Chamber last time was expelled _fifty years ago_. We know T.M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school _fifty years ago_. Well, what if Riddle got his special award for _catching the Heir of Slytherin_? His diary would probably tell us everything - where the Chamber is, how to open it, and what sort of creature lives in it - the person who's behind the attacks this time wouldn't want that lying around, would they?"

"Marcus, that's a _brilliant_ theory," said Ron, "with just one tiny little flaw. _There's nothing written in his diary_."

But Hermione was pulling her wand out of her bag.

"It might be invisible ink!" she whispered.

She tapped the diary three times and said, " _Aparecium!_ "

Nothing happened. Undaunted, Hermione shoved her hand back into her bag and pulled out what happened to be a bright red eraser.

"It's a Revealer, I got it in Diagon Alley," she said.

She rubbed hard on _January first_. Nothing happened.

"I'm telling you, there's nothing to find in there," said Ron. "Riddle just got a diary for Christmas and couldn't be bothered filling it in."

* * *

Marcus noticed that the sun had started to shine weakly on Hogwarts again. People were starting to get more hopeful, due to the fact that there had been no attacks since those on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick. Plus, as Madam Pomfrey was pleased to report, the Mandrakes were fast leaving childhood, indicated by them becoming moody and secretive.

"The moment their acne clears up, they'll be ready for repotting again," Marcus heard the nurse telling Filch kindly one afternoon. "And after that, it won't be long until we're cutting them up and stewing them. You'll have Mrs. Norris back in no time."

The only ones that were not feeling quite as cheerful was himself and Lorelei.

They were the only ones that knew, apart from the culprit, that a Basilisk was within the castle, which set both of them on edge. They worked very hard on their training becuase, even though it hadn't been active in a while, it did not mean they could relax. They had to be ready at anytime.

Gilderoy Lockhart, however, seemed to think he himself had made the attacks stop. Marcus overheard him telling Professor McGonagall so while the Gryffindors were lining up for Transfiguration.

"I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Minerva," he said, tapping his nose knowingly and winking. "I think the Chamber has been locked for good time this time. The culprit must have have known it was only a matter of time before I caught him. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on him."

 _"How can you brag about something that NO ONE KNOWS ABOUT?!"_ Marcus mentally raged.

"You know," said Lockhart thoughtfully, "What the school needs now is a morale-booster. Wash away the memories of last term! I won't say any more just now, but I think I know just the thing..."

He then tapped his nose again and strode off.

He hadn't given the idiotic man's morale-boosting idea any more thought, not when he had other things to concentrate, like his Quidditch practices, homework, and training Lorelei.

In fact, on the night of February 13th, Marcus believed she was ready to try the Disillusionment Charm.

"All right, Lorelei," said Marcus when they were in the Room of Requirement. "It's time to try out the Disillusionment Charm."

"Okay," said Lorelei, who had her wand ready in her right hand.

"Like I explained before, the trick of the Disillusionment Charm is to be one with your surroundings," said Marcus. "How well you'll be able to cast this spell determines entirely on how quickly you can remember the details of you surrounding area and being one with it. If you do it right, it should go like this."

He then started waving his wand in circles above his head and said, _"Absconditus!"_

He started to disappear as Lorelei made sure to pay attention.

He then lifted the spell and said, "All right, your turn."

Marcus saw Lorelei take a few deep breaths before she raised her wand over her head, starting twirling it in circles, and said _"Absconditus!"_

Slowly, but surely, the Disillusionment Charm took effect from her head to her toes.

"Fantastic," Marcus told her. "Fantastic! Now, lift the spell and try it five more times!"

In all five attempts, she successfully cast the Disillusionment Charm.

"Congratulations, Lorelei," said Marcus with a smirk. "You've just mastered the ability to use the very complex Disillusionment Charm!"

"Yes!" she said with a smile. "Yes!"

"But, our work is not done," he told her. "We still have far more work that needs to be done."

And the two of them finished out their training regimen.

* * *

The next morning, Marcus made his way down to the Great Hall for some breakfast. When he walked through the doors, however, he found himself seeing something truly horrific.

The walls were all covered with large, lurid pink flowers. Worse still, heart-shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling. It was as if something vomited Valentine's Day decorations all over the Great Hall.

He quickly saw Ron and Hermione and sat next to them. Only a couple of seconds after he sat down did Harry join them, asking, "What's going on?"

Marcus saw Ron pointing to the teachers' table, apparently too disgusted to speak. Once he looked up there, he felt the same way as Ron because Lockhart, who was wearing lurid pink robes to match the decorations, was waving for silence. The teachers on either side of him were looking stony-faced. From where he sat, Marcus could see a muscle flexing in Professor McGonagall's cheek. Snape looked as though someone had just fed him a large beaker of Skele-Gro.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all - and it doesn't stop here!"

"Oh, no," Marcus said aloud.

Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen surly-looking dwarfs. Not just any dwarfs, however. Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carying harps.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Lockhart. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occassion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

Marcus saw poor Professor Flitwick burying his face in his hands, and he'd never seen Snape look more deadly than in that moment. It was as though that the first unlucky person to ask him how to concoct a Love Potion would be forced poison down their throat.

"Well, guys," he said to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, "I'm going to get out of here, and quick." He got up and said, "Maybe I'll be lucky enought to -"

He didn't get a chance to finish as he turned around and found himself facing all twelve dwarfs from before.

"Twelve valentines for Mr. Marcus Williams," said the center-most dwarf.

"Damn, you guys are quick," he said out loud. "Let me pass."

"We can do it the easy way or the hard way," said the same dwarf, looking rather menacing with his harp.

He looked around and noticed that all eyes were on him. He had two options.

The first option was to sit there and listen to each and every valentine and embarrass himself to death.

The second option was to outmaneuver the dwarfs, which he knew he could do.

However, he remembered the first conversation with Dumbledore in his office and how every decision can determine whether or not progress can be made.

He sighed in defeat and said, "Fine, you win. Let's hear them."

* * *

As he walked towards the first class with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, he felt his face feeling super red from absolute embarrassment.

"I have to give you credit, Marcus," said Hermione, who patted him on the back. "I thought for sure you'd try running."

"They would've caught me sooner or later," said Marcus, who continued looking at the ground. "It was better to just get it out of the way."

"But, man, twelve musical valentines in a row," Ron said, chuckling. "Now, that's pure embarassment."

Marcus gave him a death stare worthy of Professor Snape, and Ron immediately ceased with his comments.

Marcus was not the only one to feel embarrassed by this, though his case was by far the worst. All day long, dwarfs kept barging into their classes to deliver valentines to embarrassed boys and girls, to the annoyance of the teachers, and late that afternoon as the Gryffindors were walking upstairs for Charms, one of the dwarfs caught up with Harry.

"Oi, you! 'Arry Potter!" shouted what Marcus recognized as the one who talked to him that morning, who was elbowing people out of the way to get to Harry.

"I was wondering when this was going to happen to Harry," Marcus said out loud as he started to feel sorry for Harry.

Marcus saw Harry trying to escape, of course. However, because the dwarf used dirty means to cut through the crowd, the dwarf got to him before Harry could take two paces.

"I've got a musical message to deliver to 'Arry Potter in person," he said, twanging his harp in a threatening sort of way.

 _"Not here,"_ Harry hissed, trying to escape.

" _Stay still_!" grunted the dwarf, grabbing hold of Harry's bag and pulling him back.

"Let me go!" Harry snarled, tugging.

Marcus watched the tug-o'-war unfolding before his eyes until, finally, Harry's bag split in two. His books, wand, parchments, and quill spilled onto the floor and his ink bottle smashed over everything.

Marcus watched Harry scrambling around, trying to pick it all up before the dwarf started singing, which was causing quite the holdup in the corridor.

"What's going on here?" came the cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy. Marcus could see the desperation from Harry, trying to get everything into his bag.

"What's all this commotion?" said another familiar voice as Percy Weasley arrived.

Marcus knew that the situation somehow went from bad to worse. He saw Harry trying to take off, but the dwarf was too quick for him, seizing him around the knees and brought him crashing to the floor.

"Right," he said, sitting on Harry's ankles. "Here is your singing valentine:

 _His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,  
His hair is as dark as a blackboard  
I wish he was mine, he's really divine,  
The hero who conquered the Dark Lord."_

Marcus felt really bad for Harry in that moment. While he had to stand in the Great Hall and listen to twelve musical valentines, none of them were as embarrassing as Harry's single musical valentine. And he knew that Harry wanted nothing more than to be anywhere else but where he actually was. He tried to laugh it off with everyone else as Percy Weasley did his best to disperse the crowd.

"Off you go, off you go, the bell rang five minutes ago, off to class, now," he said, shooing some of the younger students away. " _And_ you, Malfoy -"

Marcus looked at Malfoy, who stooped and snatched up something. He leered before showing it to Crabbe and Goyle and Marcus realized, to his horror, that he had Riddle's diary.

"Give that back," said Harry quietly.

"Wonder what Potter's written in this?" said Malfoy, who obviously hadn't noticed the year on the cover and thought he had Harry's own diary. A hush fell over the onlookers. Marcus noticed, out of the corner of his eyes, Ginny Weasley was looking between the diary and Harry, a look of terror written all over her face.

 _"Now, what reason would Ginny have to feel so strongly about that?"_ thought Marcus.

"Hand it over, Malfoy," said Percy sternly.

"When I've had a look," said Malfoy, waving the diary tauntingly at Harry.

Marcus had enough. Before Percy could speak further, Marcus quickly summoned his wand, pointed it at Malfoy, and said, _"Expelliarmus!"_ Malfoy found the diary flying out of his hands and into the air. Ron, grinning broadly, caught it.

"You really need to have some manners, Malfoy," said Marcus loudly. "Or did that Galleon throwing, pathetic excuse that is your father not have the time to teach you any?"

Malfoy got really close to Marcus and said, "Shut your mouth, blood-traitor."

Malfoy felt the tip of Marcus' wand touch the crook between the bottom of his jaw and his neck, just above the adam's apple, and Marcus said menacingly, "You first, you stupid pureblood supremist."

"That is enough!" Percy Weasley shouted, creating space between the hot-headed boys. "I will report this to the Heads of your respective Houses if the two of you do not cease and desist!"

Malfoy looked furious, but he turned and walked away. As Ginny walked by him, however, Malfoy yelled spitefully after her, "I don't think Potter liked your valentine much!"

Marcus watched sadly as Ginny covered her face with her hands and ran into class. He could hear Ron snarling and pulling out his wand, but Harry pulled him back. It was a good thing he did, too. The last thing he wanted Ron doing in Charms class was spewing up slugs.

Sometime in the middle of class, he felt poking his right shoulder.

He looked to see Harry and said, "Hey, what's wrong?"

He held up Riddle's diary just enough for Marcus to see and said, "You remembered how all of my stuff got drenched in ink, right?"

Marcus responded, "Yes, I remember."

He then took a closer look at the diary and continued, "Wait, why is this book clean as a whistle?"

"That's what I was wondering," Harry said in agreement.

Marcus then said in a hushed voice, "Look, here's what we'll do: Tonight, after I get back from my workout, we'll go up to the dormitory and we'll figure out how it works. Sound good?"

As Marcus saw Harry nod, he silently was thankful. He was close to another major clue about the Chamber of Secrets, he knew it.

* * *

Marcus bumped up the time of his evening workout, only telling Lorelei that it was due to urgent business afterwards. After the workout, he quickly made his way to the common room, up to the dormitory, took a quick shower, changed into sleeping clothes and joined Harry atop of his bed, the diary laying opened before them.

"Now, I think the thing we should try to do is write our introductions into the diary," said Marcus to Harry. "If my suspicions are correct, we might see something interesting."

They each took their own quills, dabbled them in ink, and wrote on different pages, "My name is Harry Potter/Marcus Williams."

They watched as nothing happened for a second. Then, without warning, their words sunk into the diary and disappeared.

Just as quickly, new words formed on the page on which Harry wrote on.

 _"Hello, Harry Potter and Marcus Williams. My name is Tom Riddle. How did the two of you come by my diary?"_

The words vanished, but not before Harry quickly scribbled in, "Someone tried to flush it down a toilet."

A couple of seconds past before a new statement came emerging.

 _"Lucky that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink. But I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read."_

Marcus took his quill and wrote, "Could you please elaborate on that, Riddle?"

He watched as his question sunk in and Riddle's reply rose onto his page.

 _"I mean that this diary holds memories of terrible things. Things that were covered up. Things that happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."_

Harry hurried to write, "That's where we are now. We're at Hogwarts, and horrible stuff's been happening. Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?"

At last, the time had come. It was time to see whether or not Riddle's diary was going to be they key to his next major clue about the Chamber of Secrets.

Marcus watched with bated breath as he saw the response come quickly, the writing getting sloppier, like it was in a mad rush to reveal this information.

 _"Of course I know about the Chamber of Secrets. In my day, they told us it was a legend, that it did not exist. But this was a lie. In my fifth year, the Chamber was opened and the monster attacked several students, finally killing one. I caught the person who'd opened the Chamber and he was expelled. But the headmaster, Professor Dippet, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth. A story was given out that the girl had died in a freak accident. They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut. But I knew it could happen again. The monster lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned."_

Marcus could hardly contain his excitement. He beat Harry to the punch, writing in the diary, "You're right about one thing, Riddle: It's happened again. In fact, it's happening right now. So far, there have been three attacks and there's not one person currently residing in the castle that know who's behind them. If you know who's behind it, please, tell us."

 _"I can show the two of you, if you like,"_ came Riddle's reply. _"You don't have to take my word for it. I can take the two of you inside my memory of the night when I caught him."_

This remark surprised Marcus. Very few things had the power to do what Riddle just proclaimed, and he felt uneasy about it.

On the other hand, he could see firsthand what Riddle wanted to show, and he could determine for himself what truly inspired fifty years ago.

Marcus then focused back on the diary as new words started to form.

 _"Allow me to show it to the both of you."_

Marcus looked at Harry, who said, "I'll go if you'll go."

Marcus took a deep breath and said, "Let's do it."

They dabbed their quills in ink and wrote two letters simultaneously.

"OK."

Immediately, the pages of the diary began to blow through as if it was caught in the middle of a storm, stopping halfway through the month of June. Marcus started to breath faster as he saw that the little square for June thirteenth seemed to have turned into a miniscule television screen.

Marcus, realizing what about to happen, took Harry's nearest wrist and said, "Do not let go, whatever you do."

He then brought the diary up to his face and he felt himself being forced into the book, through the opening in the page, into a whirl of color and shadow.

Marcus' feet hit solid ground first and Harry's a second after. The area around them was initially blurred, but then come sharply into focus.

Once he recognized that they were in the headmaster's office, Marcus turned to Harry and said, "Okay, Harry, I need you to listen to me, because I don't have a lot of time to explain. We are currently in a memory. No one in this memory is going to be able to see us or hear us, so don't bother trying to get anyone else's attention. We're only going to get one chance at viewing what we're about to see, so pay attention to everything you can. Understand?"

Just as soon as Harry nodded his head, there was a knock on the door.

"Enter," said the old wizard in a feeble voice.

Marcus saw a boy about sixteen entering, taking off his pointed hat. A silver prefect's badge was glinting on his chest. He was much taller than Harry, but he, too, had jet-black hair.

"Ah, Riddle," said the headmaster.

"You wanted to see me, Professor Dippet? said Riddle. He looked nervous.

"Sit down," said Dippet. "I've just been reading the letter you sent me."

"Oh," said Riddle. He sat down, gripping his hands together very tightly.

"My dear boy," said Dippet kindly, "I cannot possibly let you stay at school over the summer. Surely you want to go home for the holidays?"

"No," said Riddle at once. "I'd much rather stay at Hogwarts than go back to that - to that -"

"You live in a Muggle orphanage during the holidays, I believe?" said Dippet curiously.

"Yes, sir," said Riddle, reddening slightly.

"You are Muggle-born?"

"Half-blood, sir," said Riddle. "Muggle father, witch mother."

"And are both your parents -"

"My mother died just after I was born, sir. They told me at the orphanage she lived just long enough to name me - Tom after my father, Marvolo after my grandfather."

Marcus noticed that there was a hint of despise in the explanation of his name. Perhaps an underlying hatred or even a misunderstanding? Whatever the case, Marcus listened further.

Dippet clucked his tonuge sympathetically before sighing, saying, "The thing is, Tom, special arrangements might have been made for you, but in the current circumstances..."

"You mean all these attacks, sir?" said Riddle, and in that moment, Marcus and Harry got closer, making sure not to miss anything.

"Precisely," said the headmaster. "My dear boy, you must see how foolish it would be of me to allow you to remain at the castle when term ends. Particularly in light of the recent tradegy...the death of that poor little girl...You will be safer by far at your orphanage. As a matter of fact, the Ministry of Magic is even now talking about closing the school. We are no nearer locating the - er - source of all this unpleasantness..."

Marcus noticed that Riddle's eyes had widened before he said, "Sir - if the person was caught - if it all stopped -"

"What do you mean?" said Dippet with a squeak in his voice, sitting up in his chair. "Riddle, do you mean you know something about these attacks?"

"No, sir," said Riddle quickly.

But not quick enough. Marcus noticed the technique Riddle used against the headmaster. He saw his father do it on numerous occasions: The bait would be thrown by the one controlling the conversation and see what would be caught. In this case, it backfired on Riddle. He did not hear the response he was hoping for. Marcus noted Riddle's ability of conversation and his suspicions were starting to form.

He saw Dippet sink back into his chair, looking faintly disappointed.

"You may go, Tom..."

Riddle slid off his chair and slouched out of the room. Harry followed him.

As soon as Riddle was standing in front of the gargoyle in the darkening corridor. Marcus could tell that Riddle was forming up an idea, possibly a way that he could stay at Hogwarts and not have to go back to his orphanage. He bit his lips, his forehead furrowed. Marcus recognized those actions: It was actions that conveyed a hard choice, like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. He found this confusing. If Riddle was so adamant about not going back to the orphanage, what would possibly hold him back?

However, Riddle must've made his mind up, because he hurried off. Marcus and Harry took off after him. The two of them didn't see another person until they reached the entrance hall, when a tall wizard with long, sweeping auburn hair and a beard called to Riddle from the marble staircase.

"What are you doing, wandering around this late, Tom?"

Marcus, despite the situation, took a moment to gape at the wizard. He was none other than a fifty-years-younger Dumbledore.

"I had to see the headmaster, sir," said Riddle.

"Well, hurry off to bed," said Dumbledore, giving Riddle exactly the kind of penetrating stare his father would give Marcus whenever his father suspected him of something he wasn't aware of. "Best not to roam the corridors these days. Not since..."

He sighed heavily, bade Riddle good night, and strode off. Riddle watched him walk out of sight and then, moving with a purpose, headed straight down the stone steps to the dungeons, with Harry and Marcus in hot pursuit.

Eventually, Riddle led them down to the very dungeon in which Potion lessons were held. The torches weren't lit, so when Riddle pushed the door almost closed, Marcus had to look close to see him, standing stock-still by the door, watching the passage outside.

They were there for the longest period of time, and Marcus knew that Riddle was waiting for the right moment. To him, this indicated that Riddle had prior knowledge of something that could potentially work in his favor, to accomplish his goals. Otherwise, he would not be wasting so much time doing a stake-out in a dungeon room. Finally, Marcus heard a noise.

There was no doubt that someone was creeping along the passage. Whoever it was, they passed the point where Riddle was hidden. Riddle, quiet as a shadow, edged through the door and followed, Marcus making sure to stick as close to Riddle as he could.

Around five minutes did they follow the footsteps, until Riddle stopped suddenly, his head inclined in the direction of new noises. Marcus and Harry heard a door creak open, and then someone speaking in a hoarse whisper.

"C'mon...gotta get yeh outta here...C'mon now...in the box..."

 _"Wait, that voice!"_ Marcus thought. _"I'd recognize that voice anywhere!"_

Marcus enhanced his vision as Riddle suddenly jumped around the corner. Marcus and Harry stepped out from behind him. Marcus could see an aura in the form of an enormous boy who was crouching in front of an open door, a very large box next to it.

"Evening, Rubeus," said Riddle sharply.

 _"I knew it!"_ Marcus thought. _"This is Hagrid from fifty years ago! What is Riddle playing at?!"_

Hagrid slammed the door shut and stood up.

"What yer doin' down here, Tom?"

Marcus saw Riddle stepping closer before saying, "It's all over. I'm going to have to turn you in, Rubeus. They're talking about closing Hogwarts if the attacks don't stop."

"What d'yeh -"

"I don't think you meant to kill anyone. But monsters don't make good pets. I suppose you just let it out for exercise and -"

"It never killed no one!" said young Hagrid, backing against the closed door. From behind him, Marcus could hear a funny rustling and clicking.

"Come on, Rubeus," said Riddle, moving yet closer. "The dead girl's parents will be here tomorrow. The least Hogwarts can do is make sure that the thing that killed their daughter is slaughtered..."

Marcus looked at Riddle disbelievably. He knew exactly was Riddle was doing: He was framing Hagrid as the one responsible for attacking the students. Marcus knew that Hagrid was not responsible, but he also knew that the way Hagrid was and acted would work heavily against him. There was no doubt in Marcus' mind at this point.

"It wasn't him!" roared young Hagrid, his voice echoing in the dark passage. "He wouldn'! He never!"

"Stand aside," said Riddle, drawing out his wand.

His spell lit the corridor with a sudden flaming light. The door behind young Hagrid flew open with such force it knocked him into the opposite wall. And out came something that even made Marcus freak out a bit.

A vast, low-slung, hairy body and a tangle of black legs; a gleam of many eyes and a pair of razor-sharp pincers - Riddle raised his wand again, but he was too late. The thing bowled him over as it scuttled away, tearing up the corridor and out of sight. Riddle scrambled to his feet, looking after it; he raised his wand, but young Hagrid leapt on him, seized his wand, and threw him back down, yelling, "NOOOOOOO!"

All of a sudden, the scene whirled, the darkness became complete; Marcus and Harry felt themselves falling and, with a crash, Marcus landed onto the floor next to Harry's bed while Harry landed spread-eagled on top of his bed in the Gryffindor dormitory, Riddle's diary lying open on Harry's stomach.

Before they had time to regain their breath, the dormitory door opened and Ron came in.

"There you are," he said.

Harry and Marcus sat up. Marcus still felt sweaty, his body shaking from what he'd just seen.

"What's up with the two of you?" said Ron, looking at them with concern.

"It was Hagrid, Ron," Harry told him. "Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago."

Marcus took another glance at the diary. Between the two of them, Marcus knew who it truly was, and it was not Hagrid. It was Tom Riddle fifty years ago, and he was at it again via his diary.

 **And so concludes this chapter of HP: The Secret Path! Please feel free to leave a review, let me know what you think so far! Or, if you have any questions, please feel free to leave me a PM. I promise, I will read it, as I check my account on a daily basis. Until then, keep your eye out for the next chapter of HP: The Secret Path!**


	15. (15) Plight Of The Innocent

**Welcome, Ladies and Gentleman, to the next chapter of HP: The Secret Path! As this story is coming closer to its end, I just want to take this time to thank you for reading it. It means a lot to me. Also...**

 **Disclaimer: No ownership of HP with the sole exception of OC's.**

 **Now, here's...**

Chapter 15: Plight of the Innocent

 **Enjoy, everyone!**

Harry, Ron, Marcus, and Hermione always knew that Hagrid had an unfortunate liking for large and monstrous creatures. Marcus couldn't possibly forget about the time when Hagrid tried to raise Norbert in his wooden cabin with disastrous results, and he was very sure that he wasn't able to get the memory of facing his Cerberian hound, "Fluffy", out of his mind for a very long time. But, he was also very sure that Hagrid was not responsible for opening the Chamber of Secrets.

It wasn't in his nature to want to cause harm to other people. He was like a giant, misunderstood teddy bear. No, he placed the real blame on Tom Riddle, who tried very hard to convince Harry and himself that Hagrid was responsible, but he didn't fool him. Marcus knew that Tom Riddle was very good at getting what he wanted because he was the ideal student and model wizard and no one would ever suspect him of anything. In other words, he was hiding in plain sight.

Marcus felt very satisfied because he was able to figure out two of the three great parts of the mystery that he needed to know. He figured out what the monster in the Chamber was, though he didn't like to think about it too much. He also deduced that Tom Riddle was using the diary, most likely through someone else, to make the Basilisk wreak havoc in the castle. The only thing he hasn't figured out is where the Chamber entrance is located.

Regardless of his most recent discovery, he really wished him and Harry hadn't found out how to work the diary because Ron and Hermione kept badgering them, recounting what they'd seen and having the same circular conversation keep coming up.

"Riddle _might_ have got the wrong person," said Hermione. "Maybe it was some other monster that was attacking people..."

"How many monster d'you think this place can hold?" Ron asked dully.

Marcus kept his mouth shut during this conversation. Despite the fact that he knew the truth, he couldn't tell them. He knew that they had to work it out for themselves and that he would have to do what needed to be done, should he figure everything out before they did.

"We always knew Hagrid had been expelled," said Harry miserably. "And the attacks must've stopped after Hagrid was kicked out. Otherwise, Riddle wouldn't have got his award."

Ron tried a different approach and he stated, "Riddle _does_ sound like Percy - who asked him to squeal on Hagrid, anyway?"

"But the monster had _killed_ someone, Ron," said Hermione.

"And Riddle was going to go back to some Muggle orphanage if they closed Hogwarts," said Harry. "I don't blame him for wanting to stay here..."

"You and Harry met Hagrid down Knockturn Alley, didn't you, Marcus?"

"He was there buying Flesh-Eating Slug Repellent, Ron," said Marcus flatly. "That doesn't qualify him as a shady person."

The four of them fell silent. After a long pause, Hermione voiced the knottiest question of all in a hesitant voice.

"Do you think we should go and _ask_ Hagrid about it all?"

"That'd be a cheerful visit," said Ron. "'Hello, Hagrid. Tell us, have you been setting anything mad and hairly loose in the castle lately?'"

In the end, however, they decided that they wouldn't go confront Hagrid unless there was another attack.

* * *

Before Marcus realized it, the time flew by and it had been four months since the attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick. Everybody believed that the attacker had retired for good, but this made Marcus worry even more. It was like the calm before the storm, and he wasn't going to allow himself to be caught off guard.

Regardless, there were some nice perks that came with the new, relaxed atmosphere. Peeves finally got bored singing his ridiculous song, Macmillan asked Harry quietly and politely to pass a bucket of leaping toadstools in Herbology one day, and in March several of the Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in greenhouse three, which made Professor Sprout very happy.

"The moment they start trying to move into each other's pots, we'll know they're fully mature," she told Harry and Marcus. "Then we'll be able to revive those poor people in the hospital wing."

Around Easter holidays, Marcus had to make some very important decisions. All the second years had to choose their subjects for the third year, and he took the matter very seriously.

So was Hermione, who told Harry and Ron, "It could affect our whole future."

"I just want to give up Potions," said Harry.

"We can't," said Ron gloomily. "We keep all our old subjects, or I would've ditched Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"But that's very important!" said Hermione, shocked.

"Not the way Lockhart teaches it," said Marcus. "The only productive thing I've learned in his class all year was not to set pixies loose."

He ended up chosing almost the same subjects as Hermione, oddly enough. After all, they were both aware of how important it was to be prepared for life outside of Hogwarts.

Since the next Quidditch match Gryffindor would be having was against Hufflepuff, Wood insisted on team practices every night after dinner, which not only impeded on his homework, but also on his self-training, something that greatly bothered him. However, the training sessions were getting better, or at the very least drier. He felt pretty confident that the team would be flattening Hufflepuff in Saturday's match.

That confidence wavered the moment when Harry and Marcus got to the top of the stairs of the dormitory and saw Neville Longbottom, who looked frantic.

"Harry - I don't know who did it - I just found -"

As Neville pushed open the door, Marcus found himself feeling cold all over.

The contents of Harry's trunk had been thrown everywhere. His cloak lay ripped on the floor. The bedclothes had been pulled off his four-poster and the drawer had been pulled out of his beside cabinet, the contents strewn over the mattress.

Immediately, Marcus thought, _"Oh, no! Please, don't let the diary be gone!"_

He heard the other boys entering in and Dean swearing loudly before saying, "What happened, Harry?"

"No idea," said Harry. But Ron was examining Harry's robes. All the pockets were hanging out. "Someone's been looking for something," said Ron. "Is there anything missing?"

Marcus helped Harry pick up all of his things and throw them into his trunk. When they threw the last of Lockhart's books back into it, he heard Harry speak in an undertone to him and Ron.

"Riddle's diary's gone."

" _What?"_

Harry jerked his head toward the dormitory door and Marcus and Ron followed him out. "They hurried down to the Gryffindor common room, which was half-empty, and joined Hermione, who was sitting alone, reading a book called _Ancient Runes Made Easy_.

Hermione looked aghast at the news before saying, "But - only a Gryffindor could have stolen - nobody else knows our password -"

"Exactly," said Harry.

That evening, as him and Lorelei were working out, he couldn't take it anymore. He punched the table, leaving a decent size crack in it.

"Marcus!" Lorelei exclaimed. "What's wrong?"

"A Gryffindor ransacked Harry's belongings so that they could take Riddle's diary!" Marcus said. "I just can't believe this! Now, how am I supposed to report this to the teachers when I figure everything out?!"

He noticed that Lorelei didn't say anything to him so, when he looked her way, he saw a look of shock and surprise on her face.

"What?" he asked.

"I know who's been opening the Chamber of Secrets," said Lorelei.

"Well, yeah, it's Tom Riddle," said Marcus.

"No, no, the person Tom Riddle's using to commit these attacks," Lorelei clarified. "I know who that person is."

"Wait, what?!" Marcus said. "Who is it?!"

"Marcus, you're not going to like it," Lorlei told him. She took a deep breath before saying, "It's Ginny Weasley."

Marcus had to take a moment to let the information sink before saying, "How do you know?"

"Well, she started to act a bit weird a bit before Halloween," Lorelei explained. "And, on the night of the first attack, none of the girls that sleep in the same dormitory as her, myself included, knew where she was. In fact, we never knew where she was whenever the attacks happened. She was fine for a little while, because -"

"- she was the one that tossed Riddle's diary down the toilet in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom!" Marcus exclaimed. "But then, she saw Harry with Riddle's diary and freaked out! That's why she was so terrified! And, now, she has the diary again!"

Marcus looked back at Lorelei and said, "We can't go to the teachers now. Not while Ginny has the diary. No one is to be told about this, okay?"

Lorelei nodded before Marcus continued, "Lorelei, I really don't want to ask you this, but there's no other choice."

"You want me to monitor her, right?" Lorelei asked.

"Yes," Marcus said grimly. "If we don't, there's no telling when another attack might happen."

"You can count on me, Marcus," Lorelei said, her face determined.

Marcus woke the next day to brilliant sunshine and a light, refreshing breeze.

"Perfect Quidditch conditions!" said Wood enthusiastically at the Gryffindor table, loading the team's plates with scrambled eggs. "Harry, Marcus, buck up there, you two need a decent breakfast."

Marcus couldn't help but look down the Gryffindor table and, to his great suspicions, he could not find Ginny Weasley. This really had him nervous. Then, he remembered that Lorelei was currently watching her, so he tried to focus his attention on the match.

He left with Harry, Ron, and Hermione so that him and Harry could go and collect their Quidditch things. However, something happened.

Without warning, Marcus felt great, intense pain flood his eyes, and wanted so desperately to scream, but restrained himself by grunting. He forced his eyes open and, like the times before, the world of color was stripped away, and the Negative Vision returned.

Marcus was filled with horror as he looked around, thinking, _"Oh, no! The Basilisk is on the move! Where is it?! WHERE IS IT?!"_

"The voice!" said Harry, looking over his shoulder. "I just heard it again - didn't you?"

 _"He's hearing the Basilisk!"_ thought Marcus. _"That great snake must be around here somewhere!"_

Suddenly, he heard Hermione say, "Harry - I think I've just understood something! I've got to go to the library!"

Marcus saw her sprinting away, up the stairs.

"No, wait!" said Marcus.

He looked to Harry and Ron and said quickly, "I'm going to go on ahead. Harry, I'll meet you in the locker room!"

He then took off, up each floor of the castle, scanning as much as he could. But, for whatever reason, he could not find the pitch-black, cyndrilical object.

 _"I'll just have to scan for it again on my way to the locker rooms,"_ Marcus thought, fighting through the pain.

After he grabbed his Quidditch robes and Nimbus 2001, he scanned every bit he could again...but he managed to reach the entrance hall and was still not able to find the Basilisk.

He crossed the entrance hall doors and, immediately, his eyes reverted back to normal, just as he predicted.

 _"Damn it!"_ thought Marcus. _"There's going to be another attack! I can feel it!"_

* * *

The teams walked onto the field to tumultuous applause. Oliver Wood took off for a warm-up flight around the goalposts; Madam Hooch released the ball and the Hufflepuffs, who played in canary yellow, were standing in a huddle, having a last-minute discussion of tactics.

Marcus' heart was beating rapidly against his chest. He told Lorelei to tail after Ginny and now there was a good chance that she was going to die. How could he have been so stupid?!

The beating in his chest continued as he was about to mount his broom, but then caught something out of the corner of his eye.

He looked to find Professor McGonagall coming onto the field, half marching, half running across the pitch, carrying an enormous purple megaphone.

Marcus knew this was it. The calm was now over and the storm had arrived.

"This match has been cancelled, " Professor McGonagall called through the megaphone, addressing the packed stadium. There were boos and shouts. Oliver Wood, who looked devastated, landed and ran toward Professor McGonagall without getting off his broomstick.

"But, Professor!" he shouted. "We've got to play - the Cup - _Gryffindor -"_

Professor McGonagall ignored him and continued to shout through her megaphone:

"All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"

Then she lowered the megaphone and beckoned Harry and Marcus over to her.

"Potter, Williams, I think you'd better come with me..."

Marcus was starting to fear the worst. He saw Ron detach himself from the complaining crowd; he came running up to them as they set off toward the castle. To Marcus' surprise, Professor McGonagall didn't object.

"Yes, perhaps you'd better come, too, Weasley..."

Marcus wasn't paying attention to the people around him. He could only pay attention to where Professor McGonagall was taking him, Harry, and Ron.

"This will be a bit of a shock," said Professor McGonagall in a surprisingly gentle voice as they approached the infirmary. "There has been another attack...another _double_ attack."

The pounding of his heart came back and more as Professor McGonagall pushed the door open and himself, Harry, and Ron entered.

He saw Madam Pomfrey bending over a sixth-year girl with long, curly hair. Marcus recognized her as the Ravenclaw Harry and Ron accidently asked for directions to the Slytherin common room. And on the bed next to her was -

 _"Hermione!"_ Ron groaned.

"No," said Marcus in a hushed voice, too horrified to speak any louder.

As Hermione laid utterly still on the bed, her eyes open and glassy, he felt beyond guilty. He felt responsible for this. He could've at least told her a little bit about what he knew so that she wouldn't have gone galavanting to the library while that horrendous monster was on the move.

"They were found near the library," said Professor McGonagall. "I don't suppose any of you can explain this? It was on the floor next to them..."

She was holding up a small, circular mirror, one that Marcus knew didn't belong to Hermione.

Marcus kept the straightest face possible as he thought, _"Hermione must've figured it out just in time. She grabbed the nearest person that had a reflective object, in this case the mirror, and used it to look around corners."_

He vaguely heard, "Mr. Williams, do you have any ideas?"

He looked at Professor McGonagall, who was looking at him intently. He looked down to the floor so he wouldn't give himself away and slowly shook his head.

"I will escort you all back to Gryffindor Tower," said Professor McGonagall heavily. "I need to address the students in any case."

* * *

"All students will return to their House common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities."

The Gryffindors packed inside the common room listened to Professor McGonagall in silence. She rolled up the parchment from which she had been reading and said in a somewhat choked voice, "I need hardly add that I have rarely been so distressed. It is likely that the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. I would urge anyone who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward."

Marcus felt great surges of guilt as she climbed somewhat awkwardly out of the portrait hole, and the Gryffindors began talking immediately.

"That's two Gryffindors down, not counting a Gryffindor ghost, one Ravenclaw, and one Hufflepuff," said Lee Jordan, counting on his fingers. "Haven't _any_ of the teachers noticed that the Slytherins are all safe? Isn't it _obvious_ all this stuff's coming from Slytherin - why don't they just chuck all the Slytherins out?" he roared, to nods and scattered applause.

 _"Because it's one of our own that's being forced to commit these attacks,"_ thought Marcus grimly.

He looked to his left to find Percy Weasley sitting in a chair behind Lee, but for once he didn't seem keen to make his views heard. He was looking pale and stunned.

"Percy's in shock," George told Harry and Marcus quietly. "That Ravenclaw girl - Penelope Clearwater - she's a prefect. I don't think he thought the monster would dare attack a _prefect_."

Marcus didn't really listen to much of what George had to say. He couldn't get that picture of Hermione being petrified out of his mind. He felt as if he was the one who petrified her.

 _"I'll get Tom Riddle and that Basilisk, Hermione,"_ Marcus vowed. _"I will not stop until I do so."_

He saw Ron bent over to his and Harry's ears and said quietly, "What're we going to do? D'you think they suspect Hagrid?"

"We've got to go and talk to him," said Harry. "I can't believe it's him this time, but if he set the monster loose last time he'll know how to get inside the Chamber of Secrets, and that's a start."

Marcus agreed with him on one matter: They needed to see Hagrid. At the very least, he could provide something that might just answer the one thing that remained out of reach to him: The Chamber of Secret's entrance.

"But McGonagall said we've got to stay in our tower unless we're in class -"

"I think, " said Harry, more quietly still, "it's time to get my dad's old Cloak out again."

As he nodded his head in agreement, he felt something slip into his pocket. He reached into his pocket to grab a piece of parchment. He made sure Harry and Ron, or anyone for that matter, couldn't see it as he unfolded it and read:

 _RoR, 4 am, L.F._

* * *

It was a long wait that night, considering that Neville, Dean, and Seamus wouldn't shut up about the Chamber of Secrets. Eventually, they went to bed. And when they did, the three of them got up, dressed again, and Harry and Ron threw the Cloak over them while Marcus silently casted the Disillusionment Charm.

In all the times Marcus walked through the castle at night, he couldn't remember it being so packed like it was tonight. Teachers, prefects, and ghosts were marching the corridors in pair, starting around for unusual activity. Marcus had to be extra careful because, even though he was rendered invisible, did not mean he couldn't be heard. For one intense moment, Ron stubbed his toe only yards from the spot where Snape stood standing guard. Thankfully, Snape sneezed at almost the exact moment Ron swore. Marcus only breathed easily when they reached the oak front doors and eased them open.

It was a clear, starry night. The three of them hurried toward the lit windows of Hagrid's house, Marcus lifting the Disillusionment Charm and Harry and Ron pulling off the Cloak only when they were right outside his front door.

Seconds after they had knocked, Hagrid flung it open. They found themselves face-to-face with him aiming a crossbow at them. Fang the boarhound barked loudly behind him.

"Oh," he said, lowering the weapon and staring at them. "What're you three doin' here?"

"What's that for?" said Harry, pointing at the crossbow as they stepped inside.

"Nothin' - nothin' -" Hagrid muttered. "I've been expectin' - doesn' matter - Sit down - I'll make tea -"

Marcus noticed that Hagrid seemed a little scattered. He nearly extinguished the fire, spilling water from the kettle on it, and then smashed the teapot with a nervous jerk of his massive hand.

"Are you okay, Hagrid?" said Harry. "Did you hear about Hermione?"

"Oh, I heard, all righ'," said Hagrid, a slight break in his voice.

He kept glancing nervously at the windows. Wondering why Hagrid was constantly looking at the windows, he enhanced his vision and his heart nearly plummeted: Four people from what Marcus reasoned to be coming from the castle were fast approaching the hut.

Marcus hurridely stood up and muttered, "Damn it!" before summoning his wand, started waving it in circles above his head, and muttered as quietly as he could, _"Absconditus!"_

The spell was halfway finished when there was a knock on the door, causing Hagrid to drop the fruitcake he was holding. He saw the panicked looks on Harry and Ron's faces as they hurried to throw the Invisibility Cloak over them. Marcus kept his vision enhanced as the three of them backed into a corner. Hagrid waited until Marcus' spell took full effect, seized his crossbow, and flung open his door once more.

"Good evening, Hagrid."

It was Dumbledore. He entered, looking deadly serious, which unnerved Marcus, and was followed by a second man that Marcus couldn't believe: It was Cornelius Fudge, wearing a pinstriped suit, a scarlet tie, a long black cloak, and pointed purple boots. He carried his trademark lime-green bowler under his arm. Then, he saw a third man enter the hut, one that he recognized all too well: It was his dad, Michael Williams.

"That's Dad's boss!" Marcus heard Ron breath. "Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic!"

Marcus glanced at Hagrid, who had gone pale and sweaty. He dropped into one of his chairs and looked from Dumbledore to Fudge.

"Bad buisness, Hagrid," said Fudge in rather clipped tones. "Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on Muggle-borns. Things've gone far enough, Ministry's got to act."

"I never," said Hagrid, looking imploringly at Dumbledore. "You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir -"

Marcus was getting a very bad feeling stirring in his gut as he heard Professor Dumbledore said with a frown, "I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence."

"Look, Albus," said Fudge, uncomfortably. "Hagrid's record's against him. Ministry's got to do something - the school governors have been in touch -"

"Yet again, Cornelius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest," said Dumbledore. His blue eyes were full of a fire that terrified Marcus to the bone.

"Look at it from my point of view," said Fudge, fidgeting with his bowler. "I'm under a lot of pressure. Got to be seen doing something. If it turns out it wasn't Hagrid, he'll be back and no more said. But, I've got to take him. Got to. Wouldn't be doing my duty -"

"Take me?" said Hagrid, who was trembling. "Take me where?"

Marcus' father, who had been silent so far, approach Hagrid with a sad look on his face and said, "I'm really sorry, Hagrid, but I've been ordered to escort you to _that_ location."

"It's for a short stretch only," said Fudge, not meeting Hagrid's eyes. "Not a punishment, Hagrid, more a precaution. If someone else is caught, you'll be let out with a full apology -"

"Not Azkaban?" croaked Hagrid.

Marcus could understand Hagrid's fear and terror about Azkaban. He only visited one time, when his Mom and Dad had no choice but to bring him along, and it was the worst place imaginable. There was no positive atmosphere at all there; just a bottomless pit of horror, despair, and death.

Before Fudge could answer, there was another loud rap on the door.

Dumbledore answered it. Marcus then saw the last person on earth he wanted to see.

Mr. Lucius Malfoy strode into Hagrid's hut, swathed in a long black, traveling cloak, smiling a cold and satisfied smile. Fang started to growl while Marcus started to feel his anger rise rapidly.

"Already here, Fudge," he said approvingly. "Good, good..."

"What're you doin' here?" said Hagrid furiously. "Get outta my house!"

"My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside you - er - d'you call this a house?" said Lucius Malfoy, sneering as he looked around the small cabin. "I simply called at the school and was told that the headmaster was here."

"And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?" said Dumbledore, who spoke politely, but still that that terrifying fire in this eyes.

" _Dreadful_ thing, Dumbledore," said Malfoy lazily, taking out a long roll of parchment, "but the governors feel it's time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension - you'll find all twelve signatures on it. I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Two more this afternoon, wasn't it? At this rate, there'll be no Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an _awful_ loss that would be to the school."

"Oh, now, see here, Lucius," said Fudge, looking alarmed, "Dumbledore suspended - no, no - last thing we want just now -"

"The appointment - or suspension - of the headmaster is a matter for the governors, Fudge," said Mr. Malfoy smoothly.

"That which is supposed to be checked by the head of the Auror Department before the final stamp of approval!" roared Michael. "How dare this take place without my knowing it, Malfoy!"

"Which only takes place in the case of emergencies," continued Mr. Malfoy with a crooked smile. "And I daresay that multiple attacks on Muggle-borns does fall under the qualifications of an emergency. And as Dumbledore has failed to stop said attacks -"

"See here, Malfoy, if _Dumbledore_ can't stop them," said Fudge, whose upper lip was sweating now, "I mean to say, who _can_?"

"That remains to be seen," said Mr. Malfoy with a nasty smile. "But as all twelve of us have voted -"

Hagrid leapt to his feet, his shaggy black head grazing the ceiling.

"An' how many did yeh have ter threaten an' blackmail before they agreed, Mafloy, eh?" he roared.

"Dear, dear, you know, that temper of yours will lead you into trouble one of these days, Hagrid," said Mr. Malfoy. "I would advise you not to shout at the Azkaban guards like that. They won't like it at all."

"Yeh can' take Dumbledore!" yelled Hagrid, making Fang cower and whimper in his basket. "Take him away, an' the Muggle-borns won' stand a chance! There'll be killin' next!"

"Calm yourself, Hagrid," said Dumbledore sharply. He looked at Lucius Malfoy.

"If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside -"

Marcus felt his heart beating a mile of a minute, flabbergasted and horrified by what he was hearing.

 _"No, this can't be happening!"_ he thought to himself.

"But -" stuttered Fudge.

" _No!"_ growled Hagrid.

Dumbledore had not taken his bright blue eyes off Lucius Malfoy's cold gray ones.

"However," said Dumbledore, speaking very slowly and clearly so that none of them could miss a word, "you will find that I will only _truly_ have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

The moment he saw Dumbledore's eyes flicker over to the corner where the three of them were standing, Marcus knew that he was telling this to them.

"Admirable sentiments," said Malfoy, bowing. "We shall all miss your - er - highly individual way of running things, Albus, and only hope that your successor will manage to prevent any - ah - _killins_."

He strode to the cabin door, opened it, and bowed Dumbledore out. Fudge, fiddling with his bowler, waited for Hagrid and Michael to go ahead of him, but Hagrid stood his ground, took a deep breath, and said carefully, "If anyone wanter ter find out about _stuff_ , all they'd have ter do would be ter follow the _spiders_. That'd lead 'em right! That's all I'm sayin'."

Fudge stared at him in amazement while Michael looked confused. Marcus saw with dread as he saw his father wearing the look, the same look reserved for fast thinking. Then, for one scary moment, he looked in the corner they were standing in, almost as if he could see them, plain as day.

However, he looked back to Hagrid and gently tugged him on the sleeve, and Hagrid said, "All right, I'm comin'," and pulled on his moleskin overcoat. But, as he was about to follow Fudge and Michael through the door, he stopped again and said loudly, "An' someone'll need ter feed Fang while I'm away."

The door banged shut. Marcus lifted the Disillusionment Charm as well as returned his vision to normal while Ron pulled off the Invisibility Cloak.

"We're in trouble now," he said hoarsely. "No Dumbledore. They might as well close the school tonight. There'll be an attack a day with him gone."

Marcus couldn't agree with him more. There was only one thing he could possibly do, and that was to make finding the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets top priority.

 **And here concludes this chapter of HP: The Secret Path! Please feel free to leave a review and tell me what you think so far or, if you have any questions, feel free to leave a PM. I promise, if you do leave one, I will read it. Until then, keep your eyes open on the next chapter of HP: The Secret Path!**


	16. (16) The Final Clue

**Welcome, ladies and gentleman, to another chapter of HP: The Secret Path! Once again, my thanks goes out to the people that have taken the time to read this story. It truly means a lot to me. Also...**

 **Disclaimer: No ownership of HP, save for OC's**

 **Now, here is...**

Chapter 16: The Final Clue

 **Enjoy, everyone!**

By the time the three of them got back into the castle, it was already quarter to four. Not wanting to be late getting into the Room of Requirement, he told Harry and Ron that he'd move on ahead and went up to the seventh floor as fast as he could without being spotted by the massive amounts of people and ghosts patrolling the corridors. He was able to make it into the Room of Requirement exactly at 4 am.

He saw Lorelei, who said, "There you are, Marcus! I was wondering where you were. You usually show up earlier than this."

"I was down at Hagrid's with Harry and Ron," said Marcus, who shut the door behind him, "and we're in big trouble."

"The two of us?" asked Lorelei.

"Everyone in the castle," Marcus clarified. "Hagrid's been taken away to Azkaban and Dumbledore's been suspended."

"What?!" said Lorlei, the horror evident on her face. "How did this happen?!"

Marcus then recounted the entire event down at Hagrid's hut and, by the time he was done, she said, "What can be done now? If Tom Riddle senses that Dumbledore's no longer at Hogwarts, he might just go crazy and start attacking Muggle-borns left and right!"

"I was thinking the same thing," said Marcus, who started pacing back and forth. "This makes finding the entrance top priority, next to the top-secret project."

"What if I can convince Ginny to go to the teachers?" asked Lorelei. "Have her show them the diary?"

"That's not going to happen," replied Marcus grimly. "By this point, Ginny will be too suspicious. Her mental barriers will be very strong at keeping everyone at a distance, so as to minimize the damage." He slammed his right fist into the nearest wall as he said, "I had a chance to at least prevent Riddle from being able to commit more attacks, and I let it slip through my fingers!"

"It's not your fault, Marcus," said Lorelei calmly. "You weren't counting on Ginny ransacking Harry's belongings."

Marcus took a deep breath before saying, "Let's get started on the training. We've wasted enough time."

So, for the next hour and a half, they did their training.

* * *

By the time they were done, Marcus was just as frustrated as he was before he started, but for a different reason.

"Ugh!" said Marcus, who took a seat on the floor. "This is so irritating!"

Lorelei took a seat on the floor in front of him before saying, "You said yourself that the top-secret training will be one of the most difficult things to learn."

"I did," Marcus said, looking at the ceiling. "But, I'm so close that I can feel it! It's like there's some kind of barrier preventing me from being able to do it!"

He then looked at Lorelei and asked, "By the way, what happened with you? Before the Quidditch Match, I mean."

"I was tailing Ginny," she replied. "She was heading somewhere alone, and it was highly suspicious. I only followed her down one floor before I was stopped by Professor Lockhart, that self-absorbed idiot. He assumed that I was on my way to the Quidditch Match and, before I could say anything, he pretty much dragged me away from Ginny."

Marcus slammed his fist on the floor and said, "I can't stand that vain, arrogant jerk!"

"And it's obvious he doesn't know what he's doing in anything," she said in agreement. She sighed before saying, "I just wished there was a charm that could just help me forget everything he says."

A wave of realization hit Marcus as he said, "Wait, I think there is."

"Really?" asked Lorelei.

Marcus stood up and said, "Room, I need a book that can tell me about spells that alter and/or erase memory."

A book then appeared on the floor next to his feet. Marcus picked it up and started flipping through the pages until he found what he was looking for.

"Ah, yes, there is!" Marcus exclaimed. "It's called the Memory Charm. Let's see here...ah, here we go: _The Memory Charm is a spell designed to alter and/or erase memories that the caster wishes for the intended target not to fully remember._ "

He then mumbled to himself for a few seconds before saying out loud, "Okay, so the trick is you have to think of the event or thing you don't want the target to remember before casting the spell. Seems easy enough."

Marcus then was hit with another wave of realization as he said, mostly to himself, "Wait, is this how he - but, how's that - oh, I see -"

He then smirked something mischievious as he said, "I have you now, Lockhart."

"What?" said Lorelei, confused.

"Don't worry about it," said Marcus. "Come on, we have to head back to the dormitory. We still to shower and change before Professor McGonagall escorts us to our first class."

* * *

Marcus never experienced a worse situation in his life. It was true that summer was starting to creep over the grounds around the castle. The sky and lake alike turned periwinkle blue and flowers that were as large as cabbages burst into bloom in the greenhouses, to name a few. But, there was no Hagrid visible from the castle windows, striding the grounds with Fang at his heels. It just didn't seem right. In fact, the inside of the castle was the polar opposite of the outside's atmosphere.

Harry, Marcus, and Ron, for one thing, tried to visit Hermione, but visitors were now barred from the hospital wing.

"We're taking no more chances," Madam Pomfrey told them severely through a crack in the infirmary door. "No, I'm sorry, there's every chance the attacker might come back to finish these people off."

All manner of sunshine that was warming the castle walls seemed to stop at the windows, so widespread was the fear among the students and staff, now that Dumbledore was gone from Hogwarts. Marcus barely saw a face in the school that didn't look worried and tense, and any laughter that rang through the corridors sounded shrill and unnatural and was quickly stifled.

Marcus couldn't stop thinking about the words Dumbledore and Hagrid said in Hagrid's hut. Dumbledore's words, surely, was both philisophical and literal, but it also sound like it was alluding to something. Something that sounded situational, so at the present, it wasn't going to do him any good.

Hagrid's words, however, was something Marcus was more keen to follow, as it sounded like his best shot for more information and possibly the last bit that Marcus needed to solve everything. The only problem was that there no were spiders to be seen, even with Marcus using his enhanced vision. Of course, it didn't help that they had to go from class to class with the other Gryffindors escorted by teachers. The majority of them seemed glad for this, but Marcus found it to be nothing more than irritating and a nuisance.

There was a single person that was reveling the atmosphere to terror and suspicion: Draco Malfoy, who was strutting about the school as if he was appointed Head Boy. Marcus was clueless as to why this pale git was so happy about until the Potion lesson around two weeks after Dumbledore and Hagrid had left when, sitting nearby Malfoy, he overheard him gloating to Crabbe and Goyle.

"I always thought Father might be the one who got rid of Dumbledore," he told them, not bothering to keep his voice down. "I told you he thinks Dumbledore's the worst headmaster the school's ever had. Maybe we'll get a decent headmaster now. Someone who won't _want_ the Chamber of Secrets closed. McGonagall won't last long, she's only filling in...

As Snape swept by them, making no comments about Hermione's empty seat and cauldron, Malfoy said loudly, "Sir, sir, why don't _you_ apply for the headmaster's job?"

"Now, now, Malfoy," said Snape, though he couldn't suppress a thin-lipped smile, like the thought amused him. "Professor Dumbledore has only been suspended by the governors. I daresay he'll be back with us soon enough."

"Yeah, right," said Malfoy smirking. "I expect you'd have Father's vote, sir. If you wanted to apply for the job - _I'll_ tell Father you're the best teacher here, sir -"

Snape smirked as he swept around dungeon. It was lucky that he didn't spot Seamus Finnigan, who was pretending to vomit into his cauldron.

"I'm quite surprised the Mudbloods haven't all packed their bags by now," Malfoy went on. "Bet you five Galleons the next one dies. Pity it wasn't Granger -"

It was lucky of Malfoy that the bell rang in that moment because Marcus was a second away from cursing Malfoy in front of Snape. He would've done it, too, except he knew that the last thing he could afford to do was get himself into detention. These days, he needed every bit of time he could get his hands on.

"Let me at him," Ron growled as Harry and Dean hung onto his arms. "I don't care, I don't need my wand, I'm going to kill him with my bare hands -"

"Hurry up, I've got to take you all to Herbology," barked Snape over the class's heads, and off they marched, with Harry, Marcus, Ron, and Dean bringing up the rear, Ron still trying to get loose. It was only safe to let go of him when Snape had seen them out of the castle and they were making their way across the vegetable patch toward the greenhouses.

The Herbology class was very subdued as there were now two missing from their number, Justin and Hermione.

Professor Sprout set them all to work pruning the Abyssinian Shrivelfigs. Marcus and Harry went to tip an armful of withered stalks onto the compost heap and found themselves face-to-face with Ernie Macmillan. Ernie took a deep breath and said, very formally, "I just want to say, Harry, Marcus, that I'm sorry I ever suspected you two. I know you two'd never attack Hermione Granger, and I apologize for all the stuff I said. We're all in the same boat now, and, well -"

Marcus saw Ernie holding out a pudgy hand and he thought, _"Finally, someone in the castle is able to think logically."_ He and Harry shook his hand as Ernie and his friend Hannah came to work at the same Shrivelfig as Harry, Marcus, and Ron.

"That Draco Malfoy character," said Ernie, breaking off dead twigs, "he seems very pleased about all this, doesn't he? D'you know, I think _he_ might be Slytherin's heir."

"That's clever of you," said Ron in such a tone that Marcus knew he wasn't about to forgive Ernie as easily as himself and Harry did.

"Do you think it's Malfoy, Harry, Marcus?" Ernie asked.

"No," said Harry and Marcus at the same time, both so firmly that the two of them stared.

A second later, Marcus spotted something out of the corner of his eye.

He enhanced his vision and saw the auras of several large spiders scuttling over the ground on the other side of the glass, moving in an unnaturally straight line as though taking the shortest route to a prearranged meeting. Harry and Marcus hit Ron over his hand with their pruning shears.

" _Ouch!_ What're you -"

Harry pointed out the spiders, following their progress with his eyes screwed up against the sun.

"Oh, yeah," said Ron, trying, and failing miserably, to look pleased. "But we can't follow them now -"

Marcus noticed that Ernie and Hannah were listening curiously.

He tried to ignore them as he noticed something else about the spiders: If they were to continue on their path, there was no doubt where they were going.

"Looks like they're heading for the Forbidden Forest," Marcus stated.

And Ron looked even unhappier about that.

At the end of the lesson, Professor Sprout escorted the class to their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Harry, Marcus, and Ron lagged behind the others so they could talk out of earshot.

"We'll have to use the Invisibility Cloak again, and Marcus will have to use the Disillusionment Charm," Harry told Ron.

"We can take Fang with us," Marcus stated. "He's used to going into the forest with Hagrid, so he'll be some help to us."

"Right," said Ron, who was twirling his wand nervously in his fingers. "Er - aren't there - aren't there supposed to be werewolves in the forest?" he added as they took their usual places at the back of Lockhart's classroom.

"There are good things in there, too, Ron," Marcus said rather quickly. "The centaurs are all right, and there are unicorns..."

Ron had never been into the Forbidden Forest before, which was lucky for him. Harry and Marcus had only gone in one time, and Marcus hoped he'd never have to step in there again.

Lockhart bounded into the room and the class stared at him. Every other teacher in the place was looking grimmer than usual, but Lockhart appeared nothing of buoyant, which greatly irritated Marcus.

"Come now," he cried, beaming around him. "Why all these long faces?"

People swapped exasperated looks, but nobody answered.

"Don't you people realize," said Lockhart, speaking slowly, as though they were all a bit dim, "the danger has passed! The culprit has been taken away -"

"Says who?" said Dean Thomas loudly.

"My dear young man, the Minister of Magic wouldn't have taken Hagrid if he hadn't been one hundred percent sure that he was guilty," said Lockhart, in the tone of someone explaining that one and one made two.

"Oh, yes they would," said Ron, even more loudly than Dean.

"I flatter myself in knowing a _touch_ more about Hagrid's arrest than you do, Mr. Weasley," said Lockhart in a self-satisfied tone.

Ron started to say that he didn't think so, somehow, but stopped in midsentence when Harry kicked him hard under the desk.

"We weren't there, remember?" Harry muttered.

Marcus, at this point, had just enough of Lockhart, with his disgusting cheeriness, his hints that he had always thought Hagrid was no good, and his confidence that the whole business was now at an end that he decided that, this time, he was going to make him sweat a bit.

He saw Ron reading a message, which had to be about following the spiders tonight, swallowing hard, and looked at the empty space next to Marcus, sported a look of determination on his face, and nodded to both him and to Harry.

"Hey, watch this," muttered Marcus to Harry and Ron.

Marcus then raised his hand, to which Lockhart said, "Ah, Mr. Williams! Is there something you need?"

He stood up and said, "Ah, yes, Professor. You see, I was in the library recently, and I came across a spell that I couldn't quite understand and the book didn't really do a good job explaining it. I figured that, if anyone could help me, it would be you, sir. After all, you have so much experience."

"You came to the right man, Mr. Williams!" said Lockhart. Marcus looked sideways at Harry and Ron, who had the most confused looks on their faces. "Now, what was this spell that you had a difficult time?"

Marcus couldn't help but smirk as he stated, "The Memory Charm, Professor."

The reaction was immediate, but brief: Lockhart had a spasm of fear and suspicion, but hurried himself by putting on a straight face, saying, " M-Memory Charm, you say?"

"Oh, yes, sir," said Marcus. "The passage said the incantation and what it's supposed to do, but I figured there was more to it than that. Could you tell me - no, the class - how specifically the Memory Charm is supposed to be cast?"

The class nodded in agreement, murmuring to each other.

Lockhart then said, "Well, yes, I can. Let's see here - The Memory Charm...well, I've had to use it on the poor people who were too traumatized by the horrors plaguing their village and -"

In that moment, the bell rang and Lockhart immediately said, "Class is dismissed!" and went to his office rather quickly.

 _"I figured as much!"_ thought Marcus with satisfaction as the class started to leave the classroom.

* * *

The Gryffindor common room was always very crowded these days, because from six o'clock onward the Gryffindors had nowhere else to go. They also had plenty to talk about, with the result that the common room often didn't empty until past midnight.

Marcus, along with Harry and Ron, had to agonizingly entertain Fred and George with some games of Exploding Snaps, while Ginny sat watching them, subdued in Hermione's usual chair. Despite their best efforts to get them to go to bed early, it wasn't until past midnight when the three of them finally went to bed.

The three boys waited until they could hear the distant sounds of dormitory doors closing before Harry and Ron threw the Cloak over them while Marcus cast the Disillusionment Charm over himself and then climbing through portrait hole.

It was like going through an obstacle, trying to dodge the teachers and various objects in their way, but eventually they reached the entrance hall, slid back the lock on the oak front doors, squeezed between them, trying to prevent any creaking, and stepped out into the moonlit grounds.

"Course," said Ron abruptly as they strode across the black grass, "we might get to the forest and find there's nothing to follow. Those spiders might not've been going there at all. I know it looked like they were moving in that sort of general direction, but..."

His voice trailed away hopefully as the three of them reached Hagrid's house, sad and sorry-looking with its blank windows. Harry pushed the door open and Fang started barking with joy at the sight of them. Marcus quickly grabbed the nearest treacle toffee and fed it to Fang, causing his teeth to be glued together.

Marcus lifted the Disillusionment Charm while Harry laid the Invisibility Cloak on Hagrid's table. They wouldn't need to be invisible while they were going through the pitch-dark forest.

"C'mon, Fang, we're going for a walk," said Harry, patting his leg, and Fang bounded happily out of the house behind them, dashed to the edge of the forest, and lifted his leg against a large sycamore tree.

Marcus heard Harry saying, _"Lumos!"_ and he could see a tiny light appeared at the end of it, just enough to let them watch the path for signs of spiders.

Marcus enhanced his vision so that he could pick up on the spider's aura while Ron said, "Good thinking. I'd light mine, too, but you know - it'd probably blow up or something..."

Marcus then saw them: Two solitary spiders, moving away from the direction of Harry's light into the shade of the trees.

"Okay," Ron sighed as though resigned to the worst, "I'm ready. Let's go."

So, with Fang scampering around them, sniffing tree roots and leaves, they entered the forest. By being able to see their aura, Marcus had little to no difficulty seeing where they were going. They continued like this for twenty minutes, not speaking, just listening closely for noises that weren't breaking twigs or rustling leaves. Eventually, the trees started to become thicker than before and the stars could no longer be seen, the light coming from Harry's wand being their only source of light, and Marcus saw the spiders deviating from the path.

Marcus deduced that the spiders were going to a central location, but he started to feel a little uneasy. True, Hagrid told them to follow the spiders, and he was in no position to tell them otherwise, but he got the feeling that he was walking towards his own funeral.

"What d'you reckon?" Harry said to Ron and Marcus.

"We've come this far," said Ron.

"And we need answers," said Marcus. "So, let's keep going."

They continued to follow the darting shadows of the spidres into the trees. They weren't able to move as quickly as before, due to tree roots and stumps getting in their way, barely being visible to them. Marcus, more times than not, had to wait for Harry and Ron due to them having brief moments of losing track of the spiders.

They went on like this for what seemed like a half hour, and the terrain was getting worse. Their robes kept snagging on low-slung branches and brambles, the ground started going on a downward slope, and the trees kept getting thicker and thicker.

Without warning, Fang let loose a great, echoing bark, making Harry, Marcus, and Ron jump clear out of their skins.

"What?" said Ron loudly, looking around into the pitch-dark.

"There's something moving over there," Harry breathed. "Listen...sounds like something big..."

Marcus heard something to his right and looked in that direction, but he didn't see any aura, which wasn't good news.

"Oh, no," said Ron. "Oh, no, oh, no, oh -"

"Shut up," said Harry frantically. "It'll hear you."

"Hear _me_?" said Ron in an unnaturally high voice. "It's already heard Fang!"

Marcus summoned his wand and gripped it tight as a strang, rumbling noise sounded in the dark and then silence.

"What d'you think it's doing?" said Harry.

"Probably getting ready to pounce," said Ron.

"Stay alert," said Marcus. "Be ready for anything."

They waited, Marcus not daring to move in case whatever it was went off of sound.

"D'you think it's gone?" Harry whispered.

"Dunno -"

In that moment, Marcus was blinded by a sudden blaze of light, which was so bright that Marcus had to put his arms up to shield himself from it. He heard Fang yelping and trying to run away, but ended up yelping louder because it got itself caught in a tangle of thorns.

"Harry, Marcus!" Ron shouted, his relief quite obvious. "Guys, it's our car!"

"What?" Harry and Marcus exasperated.

"Come on!"

Marcus and Harry followed after Ron toward the light, stumbling and tripping, and a moment later they had emerged in a clearing.

Mr. Weasley's car was standing, empty, in the middle of a circle of thick trees under a roof of dense branches, its headlights ablaze. As Ron walked, openmouthed, toward it, moved slowly toward him, exactly like a large, turquoise dog greeting its owner.

"It's been here all the time!" said Ron delightedly, walking around the car. "Look at it. The forest's turned it wild..."

"Well, now it makes sense why I didn't see any aura," said Marcus. "Can't exactly have any if it's mechanical in nature."

Marcus hadn't seen the car since last summer, so to see it in it's current condition was something of a shock. The sides of the car were scratched and smeared with mud.

"And we thought it was going to attack us!" said Ron, leaning against the car and patting it. "I wondered where it had gone!"

Someone didn't feel right to Marcus. Where had all the spiders gone? Still having his vision enhanced, he looked around the ground before he looked up and immediately wished he hadn't.

Countless amount of spiders, bigger than they were, were above them, looking like they were getting ready to snatch them.

"We've lost the trail," Harry said. "C'mon, let's go and find them."

Ron, having noticed Marcus looking up with a grim face, looked up and went livid with terror.

Marcus knew there was no escaping it, there were that many spiders waiting to grab them. So, he stood there and let one of them take him.

There was no doubt where they were going now: Straight to the heart of the spider's nest. Since they were "kind" enough to get them the rest of the way, he figured he might as well enjoy the ride.

It seemed to last for a while, but eventually, they arrived at a vast hallow that had been clear of trees so that stars shone brightly on an otherwise frightening scene.

There were countless amount of spiders in the nest, and not the tiny ones that were surging over the leaves below. No, these spiders were the size of carthorses, and that made Marcus nervous.

The spider holding Marcus released him, sending him to the ground, barely being able to land on his feet. Harry wasn't so lucky, having landed on all fours. Fang wasn't howling anymore, but he wasn't doing much of anything else except cowering silently. He looked over to Ron, whose mouth was stretched wide in a kind of silent scream and his eyes were popping, and couldn't help but sympathize with him. He didn't have his fear of spiders, but this wasn't the friendliest of creatures, either.

The one that had dropped Harry started to say something. He kept clicking his pincers every time he spoke, so it was very hard to tell what he was saying.

"Aragog!" it called. "Aragog!"

Marcus then saw, from the middle of the misty, domed web, a spider the size of a small elephant, emerged very slowly. There was gray in the black of his body and legs, and each of the eyes on his ugly, pincered head was milky white. He was blind.

"What is it?" he said, clicking his pincers rapidly.

"Men," clicked the spider who had caught Harry.

"Is it Hagrid?" said Aragog, moving closer, his eight milky eyes wandering vaguely.

"Strangers," clicked the spider who had brought Ron.

"Kill them," clicked Aragog fretfully. "I was sleeping..."

"We're friends of Hagrid's," Marcus shouted, making sure he made himself sound confident.

He looked to Harry and pointed to himself, telling him silently that he'd handle this. He knew that he was the calmest out of the three of them and therefore the best to talk to Aragog.

Marcus could hear the rapid clicking of spiders all around the hollow.

Aragog paused for a moment before saying slowly, "Hagrid has never sent men into our hollow before."

"He would've been here if he could," Marcus stated. "Except he's in trouble. We're here in his stead."

"In trouble?" said the old spider, and Marcus could hear the concern behind his clicking of the pincers. "But why has he sent you?"

"There are people, up at the school, that believe Hagrid's been setting something loose on Muggle-born students," Marcus explained. "They've taken him to Azkaban because of it."

Aragog clicked his pincers furiously, and all around the hollow the sound was echoed by the crowd of spiders; it sounded a bit like applause, except applause didn't set Marcus on edge like he was now.

"But that was years ago," said Aragog fretfully. "Years and years ago. I remember it well. That's why they made him leave the school. They believed that _I_ was the monster that dwells in what they call the Chamber of Secrets. They thought that Hagrid opened the Chamber and set me free."

"Then, am I right in saying that you did not come from the Chamber of Secrets?" Marcus asked.

"I!" said Aragog, clicking angrily. "I was not born in the castle. I come from a distant land. A traveler gave me to Hagrid when I was an egg. Hagrid was only a boy, but he cared for me, hidden in a cupboard in the castle, feeding me on scraps from the table. Hagrid is my good friend, and a good man. When I was discovered, and blamed for the death of a girl, he protected me. I have lived here in forest ever since, where Hagrid still visits me. He even found me a wife, Mosag, and you see how our family has grown, all through Hagrid's goodness..."

"So, you're confident that you never attacked anyone?" Marcus asked, starting to feel closer to discovering what he was looking for.

"Never," croaked the old spider. "It would have been my instinct, but out of respect for Hagrid, I never harmed a human. The body of the girl who was killed was discovered in a bathroom. I never saw any part of the castle but the cupboard in which I grew up. Our kind like the dark and quiet."

Marcus then started to see the surrounding spiders starting to close in on them, and he knew he had to stall them.

"So, if you didn't kill the girl, do you know what _did_?" asked Marcus. "Because it's on the move again, whatever -"

Marcus tried to finish his sentence, but got drowned out by a loud outbreak of clicking and the rustling of many long legs shifting angrily; large black shapes shifted all around them.

"The thing that lives in the castle," said Aragog, "is an ancient creature we spiders fear above all others. Well do I remember how I pleaded with Hagrid to let me go, when I sensed the beast moving about the school."

 _"In other words, the Basilisk,"_ thought Marcus.

"What is it?" said Harry out of nowhere.

More loud clicking and rustling ensued before Aragog fiercly replied, "We do not speak of it! We do not name it! I never even told Hagrid the name of that dread creature, though he asked me, many times."

 _"Yeah, I didn't think they were just going to outright say the actual name,"_ thought Marcus, who knew for a fact that they just ran out of time: The spiders started to close around them even faster and it didn't look like they were going to be detered easily.

"We'll just go, then," Harry called desperately to Aragog, Marcus hearing the continuing rustle of leaves behind him and summoned his wand.

"Go?" said Aragog slowly. "I think not..."

"And what makes you think that?" Marcus said in a challenging tone of voice.

"My sons and daughters do not harm Hagrid, on my command. But I cannot deny them fresh meat, when it wanders so willingly into our midst. Good-bye, friends of Hagrid."

"Yeah, I'm not about to become any spider's meal!" Marcus roared as he pointed his wand straight into the air and roared, _"Lumos!"_

The light shined as bright as a lightning bolt, blinding all of the spiders, causing them to get disoriented. Right at that moment, a loud, long note sounded, and a blaze of light flamed through the hollow.

Mr. Weasley's car was thundering down the slope, headlights glaring, its horn screeching, knocking disoriented spiders aside; several were thrown onto their backs, their endless legs waving in the air. The car screeched to a halt in front of the three boys and the doors flew open.

"Get Fang!" Harry yelled, diving into the front seat while Marcus dove into the back. Ron seized Fang around the middle and threw him, yelping, right to Marcus, who caught the boarhound, and Ron quickly got in the driver's seat. The doors slammed shut. Ron didn't touch the accelerator, but the car didn't need him; the engine roared and they were off, hitting more spiders. They sped up the slope, out of the hollow, and they were soon crashing through the forest, branches whipping the windows as the car wound its way cleverly through the widest gaps, following a path it obviously knew.

Marcus leaned forward to make sure that Ron was okay. He saw that his mouth was still open in the silent scream, but his eyes weren't popping anymore.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked him.

Ron stared straight ahead, unable to speak.

As they violently made their way through the Forbidden Forest, Marcus knew that going to Aragog's home wasn't a complete waste of time. In fact, the one new thing he learned kept ringing through his mind: _The girl that was killed was found in a bathroom._

Suddenly, everything clicked for Marcus: If the girl was killed in a bathroom, and the girl decided not to leave, then there was only one place he could possibly think of that fit the description: _Moaning Myrtle and her bathroom._ He then deduced that, if she didn't have time to look away from the stare of the Basilisk, then there was only one place in that entire bathroom that could possibly fit the circumference of that great serpent. In short, he knew where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was: _Moaning Myrtle's bathroom!_

He was so concentrated on his discovery that he nearly flew from the backseat, due to the car stopping so suddenly. Marcus looked around and realized that they were on the edge of the forest, away from all those gigantic spiders. Fang flung himself at the window in his anxiety to get out and, when Marcus opened the door, he shot off through the trees to Hagrid' shouse, tail between his legs. Marcus got out through the same door, followed by Harry. Ron was able to get out of the car once he seemed to regain the feeling in his limbs and followed the two of them. Marcus saw Harry giving the car a grateful pat as it reversed back into the forest and disappeared from view.

As Harry went back into Hagrid's cabin to retrieve the Invisibility Cloak, Marcus saw Ron starting to look sick before he bolted to the pumpkin patch. Harry walked back outside just as Ron started hurling violently.

"Follow the spiders," said Ron weakly, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "I'll never forgive Hagrid. We're lucky to be alive."

"I bet he thought Aragog wouldn't hurt friends of his," said Harry.

"That's exactly Hagrid's problem!" said Ron, thumping the wall of the cabin. "He always thinks monsters aren't as bad as they're made out, and look where it's got him! A cell in Azkaban!" He was shivering uncontrollably at this point. "What was the point of sending us in there? What have we found out, I'd like to know?"

"That Hagrid never opened the Chamber of Secrets," said Marcus, who started casting the Disillusionment Charm while Harry threw the Cloak over himself and Ron. "He was innocent the entire time."

Ron gave a loud snort. Evidently, hatching Aragog in a cupboard wasn't his idea of being innocent.

* * *

During their trip back to the castle and subsequently Gryffindor Tower, Marcus could barely contain himself. He had managed to solve the three great parts of the overall mystery.

The monster that resides in the Chamber of Secrets was a Basilisk, the King of Serpents.

The one behind the attacks was Tom Riddle, who was possessing Ginny Weasley through the diary as a means of committing the attacks.

And now, he figured out the location to the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets: Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

He looked at the time and knew that he had a couple of hours before he was going to meet Lorelei Flamel in the Room of Requirement. So, when the three of them finally made it to the Gryffindor common room, Marcus lifted the Disillusionment Charm and tried to go to bed.

But, he couldn't fall asleep. He now felt a mixture of emotions. He was very glad that he was able to solve the mystery, but he also felt nauseated knowing that, to go into the Chamber of Secrets would mean that he'd have to fight the Basilisk somehow.

Eventually, when the time reached 3:45 am, Marcus started getting ready to go to the Room of Requirement. When he put the last bit of his workout clothes on, he was surprised to see Harry bolt upright from his bed.

"Ron, Marcus," he hissed through the dark. "Ron, Marcus -"

Marcus approached Harry's bed while Ron woke with a yelp similar to Fang's, starting wildy around before seeing Harry and Marcus.

"Ron, Marcus - that girl who died. Aragog said she was found in a bathroom," said Harry. "What if she never left the bathroom? What if she's still there?"

Marcus saw Ron rubbing his eyes, frowning through the moonlight. Then, realization shone on his face as he said, "You _don't_ think - not _Moaning Myrtle?_ "

Marcus started walking out of the dormitory, a smirk on his face as he thought, _"You're starting to get it now, Harry and Ron."_

 **And that concludes this chapter of HP: The Secret Path! Please feel free to leave a review, telling me what you think of this story or, if you have any questions, feel free to leave a PM. I check my account everyday, so I will read it. Until then, keep your eyes out for the next chapter of HP: The Secret Path!**


	17. (17) The Secret Path

**Welcome, ladies and gentleman, to another chapter of HP: The Secret Path! As this installment is approaching the final chapters, I would like to thank all of you that have read this story. I'm very happy that you took the time out of your day to do so. Also...**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own HP, which is very sad :( I do, however, own the OC's :)**

 **So, here's...**

Chapter 17: The Secret Path

 **Enjoy!**

"That's amazing, Marcus!" said Lorlei. "We have everything we need to end this horrible nightmare!"

As Marcus and Lorelei were finishing their workout, Marcus told her everything that happened with the acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest and how he was able to deduce where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was located.

"Not only that," Marcus added, "but I also know why no one was able to find the Chamber of Secrets before now."

"And why's that?" Lorelei asked.

"Well, think about it," Marcus said to her. "What was Salazar Slytherin famous for?"

"Well, he was famous for - Oh!" said Lorelei. "Is it that simple?!"

"Simple, but effective," said Marcus. "I guarantee that, when good old Slytherin was building his secret chamber, he didn't want just anyone to access it. Otherwise, it wouldn't be so secret. So, he sealed off the entrance and enchanted it so that only those that are able to speak in Parseltongue could open it. Of course, any Parseltongue could theoretically open it, not just the Heir of Slytherin."

"You mean, if Harry finds out about the entrance -"

"Exactly!" said Marcus. "And I have a feeling that's going to be very soon..."

He then looked to the ground, the one, terrifying thought about the Chamber of Secrets creeping back into his mind.

"Is that why you have a sword with you, Marcus?" Lorelei asked him.

He looked to his nodachi blade and said, "Yeah, more or less. My nodachi blade, Abscido, will definitely be of some use, should I not be able to..."complete"...our top-secret project in time."

"But will a blade be good enough against a Basilisk?" Lorelei gently asked.

"It's better than nothing," Marcus said, his voice starting to crack.

"But, you've been in fights before, right?" asked Lorelei. "What makes this one different?"

"Because I've never been in a fight before where the odds were stacked so heavily against me!" Marcus said, a little louder than he wanted to. "Everything about the Basilisk was made to kill. Sight, fast-acting venom, superior agility and movement, all of it was so that the Basilisk can easily kill its prey. Ideally, I'd like to find a way to destroy the diary before the Basilisk shows up, but I can guarantee that's not going to happen, which means we have to kill that giant snake before dealing with Riddle."

"Well...should we tell Harry and Ron...about what we know?" Lorelei hesistantly asked.

"No," said Marcus. "My father once told me that, while some things can be shared, there are other things that people need to work out on their own. Besides, Harry and Ron are on the verge of figuring everything out. That much, I can sense."

Marcus then looked at the time and said, "Crap, it's already 5:30?! We still have to shower and get dressed! We better get back to the common room."

They made sure to render themselves invisible before hurrying out the Room of Requirement.

* * *

As Marcus made his way to breakfast, his invisible nodachi blade at his hip, he knew his time was running out: Harry and Ron will eventually discover everything and, when they did, they were going to act on it right away. He figured that he might have the speed and agility to dodge the basilisk's movements, but he still did not have an answer for its eyes.

He sat down inbetween Harry and Ron, having himself a two-egg scramble, and the first thing he heard was Ron bitterly saying, "All those times we were in that bathroom, and she was just three toilets away, and we could've asked her, but now..."

Marcus knew that he was referring to: The fact that the three of them were on tight leashes. It was hard enough when it was just the three of them trying to look for spiders. But, to try and get into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, right next to the first attack scene, on top of avoiding detection from the teachers? That was going to be almost impossible.

Unfortunately, Marcus had other things to worry about. Ten minutes into their Transfiguration class, Professor McGonagall told the class that their exams would start on the first of June, one week from today.

 _"Exams?"_ howled Seamus Finnigan. "We're still getting _exams_?"

Marcus heard a loud bang, which made him look to find that Neville's wand had slipped, causing one of his desk's legs to vanish. Professor McGonagall restored it with a wave of her own wand, and turned, frowning to Seamus.

"The whole point of keeping the school open at this time is for you to receive your education," she said sternly. "The exams will therefore take place as usual, and I trust you are all studying hard."

 _"Well, I can't say I'm surprised at all,"_ thought Marcus. _"Leave it up to Professor McGonagall to keeps things on track."_

Luckily, he made sure both himself and Lorelei were on top of their subjects, just in case this happened.

Although, based on the amount of muntinous mutterings that were happening in the room, Marcus easily guessed that everyone else was not doing any studying of any kind.

He heard Professor McGonagall scowl quite darkly as she continued, "Professor Dumbledore's instructions were to keep the school running as normally as possible. And that, I need hardly point out, means finding out how much you have learned this year."

Marcus went to work on the pair of white rabbits everyone was supposing to be turning into slippers. Once he successfully finished the task, he looked up to find Ron, who looked as if someone had told him to go and live in the Forbidden Forest.

"Can you imagine me taking exams with this?" he asked Harry and Marcus, holding up his wand, which had just started whistling loudly.

* * *

Three days before the first exam was supposed to take place, Professor McGonagall made another announcement at breakfast.

"I have good news," she said, and the Great Hall, instead of falling silent, erupted.

"Dumbledore's coming back!" several people yelled joyfully.

"You've caught the Heir of Slytherin!" squealed a girl at the Ravenclaw table.

"Quidditch matches are back on!" roared Wood excitedly.

Marcus leaned in to whisper in Harry and Ron's ears, "I'll bet that the Mandrakes are ready."

When the hubbub had subsided, Professor McGonagall said, "Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit."

There was an explosion of cheering. Marcus took a quick glance at the Slytherin and saw, not to his surprise, that Draco Malfoy wasn't joining in. Ron, however, was looking happier than he'd looked in days.

"It won't matter that we never asked Myrtle, then!" he said to Harry and Marcus. "Hermione'll probably have all the answers when they wake her up! Mind, she'll go crazy when she finds out we've got exams in three days' time. She hasn't studied. It might be kinder to leave her where she is till they're over."

Marcus then noticed the last thing he'd thought he see: Ginny Weasley, coming over and sitting next to Ron. She looked tense and nervous, her hands were twisting in her lap.

"What's up?" said Ron, helping himself to more porridge.

Ginny didn't say anything, but glanced up and down the Gryffindor table with a scared look on her face, the same kind of face that Dobby was showing the night he visited Harry in the hospital wing.

 _"Holy crap!"_ Marcus thought. _"Is she actually going to confide in us?!"_

"Spit it out," said Ron, watching her.

"I've got to tell you something," Ginny mumbled, carefully not looking at Harry and Marcus.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

Ginny looked as though she couldn't find the right words.

" _What?"_ said Ron.

Ginny opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Marcus and Harry leaned forward and Harry spoke quietly, so that only the three of them could hear Harry.

"Is it something about the Chamber of Secrets? Have you seen something? Someone acting oddly?"

 _"This is it!"_ Marcus thought. _"I know it! She'll confide in us, and we might not even have to go down into the Chamber of Secrets!"_

Ginny drew a deep breath and, at that precise moment, Percy Weasley appeared, looking tired and wane.

"If you've finished eating, I'll take that seat, Ginny. I'm starving, I've only just come off patrol duty."

Marcus watched in horror as Ginny jumped up from her chair, like it was electrified.

Marcus saw Lorelei sitting further down from them, watching it all. He quickly summoned her over to him and whispered in her ear, "Follow Ginny, whatever it takes!"

Lorelei quietly nodded as Marcus saw Ginny giving Percy a frightened, fleeing look before scampering away, Lorelei following closely behind. Percy sat down and grabbed a mug from the center of the table.

Marcus hadn't felt as angry as he was in that moment for a long time. His one opportunity to save Ginny from the diary, and Percy just had to come along and screw it up! If it wasn't for the fact there were people around, Marcus would've punched Percy to oblivion. Instead, he sat there, fuming at his rotten luck.

He wasn't the only one mad, though. Ron rounded on Percy and said angrily, "Percy! She was just about to tell us something important!"

Percy choked on his tea and said, coughing, "What sort of thing?"

"I just asked her if she'd seen anything odd, and she started to say -" Harry began.

"Oh - that - that's nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets," said Percy at once.

 _"Bullshit it wasn't!"_ Marcus angrily thought.

"How do you know?" said Ron, his eyebrows raised.

"Well, er, if you must know, Ginny, er, walked in on me the other day when I was - well, never mind - the point is, she spotted me doing something and I, um, I asked her not to mention it to anybody. I must say, I did think she'd keep her word. It's nothing, really, I'd just rather -"

Despite his anger at Percy, Marcus couldn't help but be curious about why Percy was looking so uncomfortable.

"What we were you doing, Percy?" said Ron, grinning. "Go on, tell us, we won't laugh."

Percy wasn't smiling as he said, "Pass me those rolls, Harry, I'm starving."

* * *

Marcus knew that the moment Ginny scampered out of the Great Hall was the moment that the clock started ticking down. He knew because she would be forced to confide in that horrendous diary since she wasn't able to confide in the three of them, and there was no doubt that Riddle would make his move soon, though just how soon, Marcus didn't know, and that terrified him. The only thing that gave him any amount of assurance was the fact that Lorelei was tailing her, though he hoped that she wouldn't go too far ahead, so to speak.

In the middle of the morning, after breakfast, the three of them, along with the other Gryffindors, were being led to History of Magic by Gilderoy Lockhart.

Lockhart, who had so often assured them that all danger had passed, only to be proved wrong right away, was now wholeheartedly convinced that it was hardly worth the trouble to see them safely down the corridors. His hair wasn't as sleek as usual; it seemed he had been up most of the night, patrolling the fourth floor.

"Mark my words," he said, ushering them around a corner. "The first words out of those poor Petrified people's mouths will be _'It was Hagrid.'_ Frankly, I'm astounded Professor McGonagall thinks all these security measures are necessary."

"I agree, sir," said Harry, which made Marcus look at him in shock.

"Thank you, Harry," said Lockhart graciously while they waited for a long line of Hufflepuffs to pass. "I mean, we teachers have quite enough to be getting on with, without walking students to classes and standing guard all night..."

Marcus, realizing what Harry was doing, smirked and said, "Of course, Professor Lockhart. I can only imagine all the hard work you do to ensure we get our education, sir."

"That's right," said Ron, who realized the same thing Marcus did. "Why don't you leave us here, sir, we've only got one more corridor to go -"

"You know, Weasley, I think I will," said Lockhart. "I really should go and prepare my next class -"

And he hurried off.

"Prepare his class," Ron sneered.

"More like he's gone to curl his hair," Marcus said.

They let the rest of the Gryffindors draw ahead of them, then darted down a side passage and hurried off toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. But, just as they were congratulating each other on their brilliant scheme -

"Potter! Weasley! Williams! What are you doing?"

Marcus looked to see Professor McGonagall, and her mouth was the thinnest he'd seen since her finding out Marcus lost Gryffindor 200 points for yelling back at Snape.

"We were - we were -" Ron stammered, making Marcus sweat on the inside. "We were going to - to go and see -"

"Hermione," said Harry. Ron and Professor McGonagall both looked at him while Marcus thought, _"Nice recovery! Now, finish it through!"_

"We haven't seen her for ages, Professor," Harry went on hurridely, treading on Ron's foot, "and we thought we'd sneak into the hospital wing, you know, and tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready and, er, not to worry -"

Professor McGonagall was still staring at Harry and Marcus thought, for a terrible moment, that things were going to go from bad to worse. When she spoke, however, it was in a strangely croaky voice.

"Of course," she said, a tear glistening in her beady eye. "Of course, I realize this has all been hardest on the friends of those who have been...I quite understand. Yes, Potter, of course you may visit Miss Granger. I will inform Professor Binns where you've gone. Tell Madam Pomfrey I have given my permission."

The three of them walked away, Marcus sighing with relief that they were able to get out of that jam. As they turned the corner, they distinctly heard Professor McGonagall blow her nose.

"That," said Ron fervently, "was the best story you've ever come up with."

"I couldn't have done it better myself," Marcus said to him.

At this point, Marcus knew they had no choice but to go to the hospital wing and tell Madam Pomfrey that they had Professor McGonagall's permission to visit Hermione.

Madam Pomfrey let them in, but reluctantly, saying, "There's just no _point_ talking to a Petrified person."

 _"Well, I'll give that one to her,"_ thought Marcus.

They took their seats next to Hermione, who was oblivious to everything around her.

Marcus then noticed, in Hermione's right hand, a crumpled up piece of paper.

 _"That's definitely information on the Basilisk!"_ Marcus thought, knowing too well Hermione would've made sure to take that kind of information with her.

"Wonder if she did see the attacker, though?" said Ron, looking sadly at Hermione's rigid face. "Because if he sneaked up on them all, no one'll ever know..."

Harry, who spotted the same thing Marcus did, made sure that Madam Pomfrey was nowhere near before him and Marcus brought Ron's attention to her right hand.

"Try and get it out," Ron whispered, shifting his chair so that he blocked Harry and Marcus from Madam Pomfrey's view.

It was not an easy task, for Hermione's hand was clamped so tightly around the paper that, multiple times, Marcus thought the paper was going to tear.

 _"Gee, Hermione, thanks for making this difficult,"_ Marcus thought in annoyance.

However, after several minutes, the paper came free and Harry eagerly smoothed it out. Marcus and Ron leaned close to read it and Marcus realized that it was the exact same passage he read in the winter time, except the word "Pipes" had been written underneath the passage, no doubt by Hermione.

Marcus looked to Harry, who looked as if someone flicked a light switch in his mind.

 _"Here it comes!"_ Marcus thought.

"Ron, Marcus," Harry breathed. "This is it. This is the answer. The monster in the Chamber's a _basilisk_ \- a giant serpent! _That_ ' _s_ why I've been hearing that voice all over the place, and nobody else has heard it. It's because I understand Parseltongue..."

Marcus saw Harry looking at the bed around them before continuing, "The basilisk kills people by looking at them. But no one's died - because no one looked it straight in the eye. Colin saw it through his camera. The basilisk burned up all the film inside it, but Colin just got Petrified. Justin...Justin must've seen the basilisk through Nearly Headless Nick! Nick got the full blast of it, but he couldn't die _again_... and Hermione and that Ravenclaw prefect were found with a mirror next to them. Hermione had just realized the monster was a basilisk. I bet you anything she warned the first person she met to look around corners with a mirror first! And that girl pulled out her mirror - and -"

Ron's jaw had dropped while Marcus thought, _"Keep going, Harry! You're getting it!"_

"And Mrs. Norris?" Ron whispered eagerly.

Marcus could see the look of concentration on Harry's face before Harry said slowly, "The water...the flood from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. I bet you Mrs. Norris only saw the reflection..."

Harry then looked back on the page before reciting, _"'The Basilisk flees from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it!'_ Hagrid's roosters were killed! The Heir of Slytherin didn't want one anywhere near the castle once the Chamber was opened! _'Spiders flee before the Basilisk'!_ It all fits!"

"But how's the basilisk been getting around the place?" said Ron. "A giant snake...Someone would've seen..."

Harry then pointed at the word Hermione had scribbled at the bottom of the page.

"Pipes," Harry said. "Pipes...Ron, it's been using the plumbing. I've been hearing that voice inside the walls..."

"And that's why I kept seeing a pitch-black object through the walls whenever my eyes reacted on their own," said Marcus.

Ron suddenly grabbed Harry and Marcus's arms.

"The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets!" he said hoarsley. "What if it's a bathroom? What if it's in -"

" - _Moaning Myrtle's bathroom,"_ said Harry and Marcus at the same time.

 _"Finally!"_ thought Marcus. _"We're finally all on the same page!"_

"This means," said Harry, "I can't be the only Parselmouth in the school. The Heir of Slytherin's one, too. That's how he's been controlling the basilisk."

"What're we going to do?" said Ron, whose eyes were flashing. "Should we go straight to McGonagall?"

"Let's go to the staffroom," said Marcus, anxious to get going. "She'll be there in ten minutes. It's nearly break."

They ran downstairs. Not wanting to be discovered hanging around in another corridor, they went straight into the deserted staffroom. It was a large, paneled room full of dark, wooden chairs. Harry, Marcus, and Ron paced around it, too excited to sit down.

But as the time for the singal bell came and went, Marcus immediately thought, _"Oh, no! Please tell me it hasn't happened!"_

As if to play out his thoughts, Professor McGonagall's voice, magically magnified, echoed through the corridors.

 _"All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers to the staffroom. Immediately, please."_

Marcus wheeled around to look at Harry and Ron in horror, all the while thinking, _"Crap! Riddle's done it! He's made his move!"_

"Not another attack? Not now?" Harry said.

"What'll we do?" said Ron, aghast. "Go back to the dormitory?"

"Definitely not!" exclaimed Marcus, who noticed an ugly sort of wardrobe to Harry's left, full of the teachers' cloaks. "Quickly, in here! We'll hear what they have to say before we tell them what we just found out."

They quickly hid themselves in the wardrobe, listening to the rumbling of hundreds of people moving overhead, and the staffroom door banging open. From between the musty folds of the cloaks, they watched the teachers filtering into the room. Some of them were looking puzzled, others downright scared. Then Professor McGonagall arrived.

"It has happened," she told the silent staffroom. "A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself."

Professor Flitwick let out a squeal. Professor Sprout clapped her hands over her mouth. Snape gripped the back of a chair very hard and said, "How can you be sure?"

"The Heir of Slytherin," said Professor McGonagall, who was very white, "left another message. Right underneath the first one. _'Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.'"_

Professor Flitwick burst into tears.

"Who is it?" said Madam Hooch, who had sunk, weak-kneed, into a chair. "Which student?"

"Ginny Weasley," said Professor McGonagall.

Marcus felt Ron slide silently down onto the wardrobe floor beside him before coming to a horrible thought: If Lorelei listened to him, that would mean that she would've followed Ginny down into the Chamber of Secrets! He couldn't believe it. He sent Lorelei to her death, and it was entirely his fault.

"We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow," said Professor McGonagall. "This is the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said..."

The staffroom door banged open again. For one wild moment, Marcus was sure it would be Dumbledore. But, to his great irritation, it was Lockhart, and he was beaming.

"So sorry - dozed off - what have I missed?"

He was somehow oblivious to the fact that the teachers were looking at him with hatred. Snape stepped forward, saying, "Just the man. The very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last."

Marcus, despite the situation, was glad to see Lockhart blanching before Professor Sprout chipped in, "That's right, Gilderoy. Weren't you saing just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?"

"I - well, I -" sputtered Lockhart.

"Yes, didn't you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?" piped up Professor Flitwick.

"D-did I? I don't recall -"

"I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn't had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested," said Snape. "Didn't you say that the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should have been given a free rein from the first?"

Marcus watched with satisfaction as Lockhart stared around at his stony-faced colleagues before saying, "I -I really never - you may have misunderstood -"

"We'll leave it to you, then, Gilderoy," said Professor McGonagall. "Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll make sure everyone's out of your way. You'll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free rein at last."

Lockhart gazed desperately around him, but nobody came to the rescue. He didn't look remotely handsome now. His lip was trembling, and in the absence of his usually toothy grin, he looked weak-chinned and feeble.

"V-very well," he said. "I'll - I'll be in my office, getting - getting ready."

And he left the room.

"Right," said Professor McGonagall, whose nostrils were flared, "that's got _him_ out from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. Will the rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories."

And then Marcus saw the teachers rising from their places and leaving the staffroom, one by one.

* * *

It was, without a doubt, the worst day Marcus had in a long time, and that was saying something.

Not only did he fail to stop Riddle up to this point, but he was stupid enough to tell Lorelei to follow Ginny no matter what, causing her, no doubtly, to go inside the Chamber of Secrets. He confimed this when he couldn't find Lorelei in the Gryffindor common room. He was currently sitting on his four-poster in the dormitory, unable to keep himself together.

There was so many things that he did wrong and wished he could correct, but couldn't. He wished he would've at least gone to Dumbledore sooner, he wished he would've informed Harry, Ron, and Hermione what he knew before this point, and he wished above everything else that he didn't send Lorelei to her death.

That, by far, disturbed him the most. He kept recalling the moment where they first became friends and training partners in the Room of Requirement, all the times they spent doing physical workouts, practicing spells and their top-secret project.

All of the facts that he knew about Lorelei kept swimming in his head: How kind and curteous she was, how brilliant she was and how quick she was able to pick up on spells. Her determination was as strong as his, and she was always able to think positive, no matter how hard she struggle.

Then, he came across a thought.

 _"She learned a lot of things from me,"_ Marcus thought. _"She has a good head on her shoulders, unlike most of the students in Hogwarts. She'll do whatever it takes to stay alive. She must've gone down to the Chamber of Secrets because she trusts in me to come down there, as well. She trusts me."_

He then looked at his hands and balled them into fists, steeling his resolve.

 _"I'll do whatever it takes to right the wrongs I have created,"_ he thought. _"I won't let her trust in me waver. I will ensure that she stays alive!"_

He then went to his trunk and brought out a roll of parchment, tearing two big segments off of it, as well as grabbing his battle uniform.

First, he grabbed his dragon hide boots and flexible pants, after which he grabbed his sword-wielding belt, his gloves that had dragon symbols on them, his flexible shirt and battle cloak. He had hoped that he would never have to wear his battle uniform while he was at Hogwarts, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Once he put on his battle uniform and secured his nodachi blade to his belt, he sat down and started to write out a letter explaining everything to his Mom and Dad and to say good-bye, just in case the worst should happened. He sealed the letter in an envelope before writing out an agreement.

As he finished the agreement, Harry and Ron walked into the dormitory, the first thing he heard was Ron saying, "Marcus, what are you wearing?"

"I'll tell you later, Ron," said Marcus. "I take it you and Harry didn't just come up to the dormitory for no reason."

Ron ushered him close to them and, when he got closer to them, Ron said, "I think that Ginny knew something. That's why she was taken. It wasn't some stupid thing about Percy at all. She'd found out something about the Chamber of Secrets. That must be why she was -" Ron rubbed his eyes frantically before continuing, "I mean, she was a pureblood. There can't be any other reason."

The sun was starting to sink below the horizon, giving off a blood-red color. He had to make sure to convince them to go into the Chamber of Secrets, no matter what.

"Harry, Marcus," said Ron. "D'you think there's any chance at all she's not - you know -"

"Of course there is," Marcus said. "And we have to go down there and make sure we bring her back."

"I think we should go and see Lockhart," Ron said, perhaps feeling a bit more confident from Marcus' words. "Tell him what we know. He's going to try and get into the Chamber. We can tell him where we think it is, and tell him it's a basilisk in there."

"Sounds good to me," said Marcus. "Give me a minute."

He took his owl whistle from his beside table, opened the window, and blew through the whistle as hard as he could.

"What are you doing, Marcus?" asked Harry.

"You'll see," said Marcus.

One minute later, he saw Archie flying towards him and landing on the windowsill.

He held up the envelope containing the letter that he wrote earlier, saying in a serious tone he never used with Archie before, "You need to take his to my father. Fly as fast as you can go, and do not stop until you arrive and ensure this letter is opened by him. I'll give you as many treats as you desire once you return."

He then tied the letter around Archie's leg, after which he said, "Go, now! Fly quickly!"

Archie must've sensed the urgency in his owner's voice, because he shot out like a bullet and Marcus wasn't able to see them in a short amount of time.

"What was that about?" asked Ron.

Marcus started to put the Disillusionment Charm on him as he said, "Backup, if we're lucky. Come on, let's go."

The three of them went back down to the common room and proceeded to the portrait hole. The Gryffindors were so miserable, and felt so sorry for the Weasleys, that nobody tried to stop them as they were able to leave through the portrait hole.

Darkness was falling as they walked down to Lockhart's office. Once they arrived in the classroom, Marcus lifted the Disillusionment Charm so that he could be seen. As they approached his office door, Marcus could hear the sounds of scraping, thumps, and hurried footsteps.

 _"Oh, the little slimeball is going to try and run away, is he?"_ thought Marcus. _"We'll see about that."_

Marcus knocked on the door and there was a sudden silence from inside. Then, the door opened the tiniest crack and they saw one of Lockhart's eyes peering through it.

"Oh - Mr. Potter - Mr. Weasley - Mr. Williams -" he said, opening the door a bit wider. "I'm rather busy at the moment - if you would be quick -"

"Professor, we've got some information for you," said Harry. "We think it'll help you."

"Er - well - it's not terribly -" Marcus looked at him with the meanest looking death stare he could muster. Lockhart caught sight of it and said, "I mean - well - all right -"

He opened the door and they entered.

Just like Marcus surmised, his office had been almost completely stripped. Almost everything was packed away and, based on the condition of some of Lockhart's belongings, he was trying to leave as soon as possible.

"Are you going somewhere?" said Harry.

"Er, well, yes," said Lockhart, ripping a life-size poster of himself from the back of the door as he spoke and starting to roll it up. "Urgent call - unavoidable - got to go -"

"What about my sister?" said Ron jerkily.

"Well, as to that - most unfortunate -" said Lockhart, avoiding their eyes as he wrenched open a drawer and started emptying the contents into a bag. "No one regrets more than I -"

"You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!" said Harry. "You can't go now! Not with all the Dark stuff going on here!"

"Well - I must say - when I took the job -" Lockhart muttered, now piling socks on top of his robes. "nothing in the job description - didn't expect -"

"You mean you're _running_ away?" said Harry disbelievingly. "After all that stuff you did in your books -"

"Books can be misleading," said Lockhart delicately.

"You wrote them!" Harry shouted.

"My dear boy," said Lockhart, straightening up and frowning at Harry. "Do use your common sense. My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think _I'd_ done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover. No dress sense at all. And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a hairy chin. I mean, come on -"

"So you've just been taking credit for what a load of other people have done?" said Harry incredulously.

"Oh, it wasn't as simple as that," said Marcus, feeling a mixture of satisfaction and anger as he looked at Harry and Ron. "There was work involved, regardless of how dirty it was. You see, Lockhart here had to squeeze every ounce of information he could out of the people who had actually done the deeds. And, when he found out everything he could, he proceeded to wipe their minds clean of the event in question." He then looked at Lockhart and said, "If you're curious at all as to how I figured it out, it was the lack of discreditors that gave you away. Normally, there are always a group of people that will always try to disprove someone famous. But, it makes sense that there wasn't any when you used Memory Charms to shut them all up."

Lockhart looked at him with anger and fear as he said, "It's people like you that I wish would just go away." He then looked at Harry and Ron and said, "Yes, what Mr. Williams said is true. If there is one thing I pride myself on, it's my Memory Charms. No, it's been a lot of work, Harry. It's not all book signings and publicity photos, you know. You want fame, you have to be prepared for a long hard slog."

He banged the lids of his trunks shut and locked them.

"Let's see," he said. "I think that's everything. Yes. Only one thing left."

He pulled out his wand and turned to them.

"Awfully sorry, boys, but I'll have to put a Memory Charm on you now. Can't have you blabbing my secrets all over the place. I'd never sell another book -"

Marcus summoned his wand, but Harry got to him first as Lockhart barely raised him wand when he shouted, _"Expelliarmus!"_

Lockhart was blasted backward, falling over his trunk. Marcus had enough, his patience with the fraud had finally run out. As soon as his wand started flying in the air, Marcus ran over to him, moved his trunk aside, picked him up by his shirt, and slammed him against the wall.

Before Lockhart could move, Marcus shoved his wand up against Lockhart's bottom jaw, who started to whimper.

"Listen carefully, because we don't have a lot of time," said Marcus as he pulled out his agreement and rolled it open for Lockhart to see.

"What's that for?" squeaked Lockhart.

"It's proof that you're a fraud," Marcus simply said. "That everything you've said and done is one big, fat lie. Now, I'm going to give you two choices. You sign this, and your secret's safe. You don't, and I'll tell everyone your secret. And this is a limited time offer, so I'd decide quickly."

Lockhart wasted no time in signing his name on the agreement.

"Good," said Marcus as he rolled it back up. "Oh, and you're coming with us, _Professor_...you'll be leading us to the Chamber of Secrets like a good adult."

"Now, really, what good will I be?" asked Lockhart weakly. "I don't know where its location is. There's not anything I can do."

"You're in luck," said Harry, as Marcus grabbed him by the neck. "We think _we_ know where it is. _And_ what's inside it. Let's go."

Marcus never let go as they left the office and made their way to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Once they arrived, Marcus sent Lockhart in first, and he couldn't help but smirk when he saw Lockhart shake all over.

He saw Moaning Myrtle sitting on the tank of the end toilet when she looked at them and said, "Oh, it's you. What do you want this time?"

"To ask you how you died," said Harry.

Myrtle did a complete 180 with her personality, looking as if it was the greatest of compliments to be asked such a question.

"Ooooh, it was dreadful," she said with relish. "It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well, I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a _boy_ speaking. So, I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then -" Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining before she finished, "I _died_."

"How?" said Harry.

"No idea," said Myrtle in hushed tones. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away..." She looked dreamily at Harry and Marcus. "And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she'd ever laughed at my glasses."

"Where did you see the eyes, Myrtle?" asked Marcus, the eagerness in his voice evident.

"Somewhere there," said Myrtle, pointing vaguely toward the sink in front of her toilet.

Marcus immediately rushed towards it, Harry and Ron close behind him. He examined every inch of it possible and he finally spotted it: On one of the copper taps was a tiny snake, scratched on the side.

"That tap's never worked," said Myrtle bright as Harry tried to turn it.

"Harry," said Ron. "Say something. Something in Parseltongue."

"But -" Harry started to say.

"You can do it, Harry," said Marcus. "You just have to concentrate."

He saw Harry looking at the tap before saying, "Open up."

He looked at Ron, who said, "English."

He looked to Marcus, who had, "You have to believe that the snake on the tap is real. Use your mind to imagine the snake alive."

Harry looked at the tap again and, this time, he succeeded: a strange hissing noise had left his lips, and Marcus saw the tap glow with a bright light instantly. Once second, it began to spin and, the next second, the sink disappeared altogether, leaving a large pipe exposed, large enough to have a fully grown man slide through.

Marcus smirked at the sight. Finally, the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets was revealed!

"I'm going down there," said Marcus and Harry at the same time.

Marcus was determined to go down there. Despite his fears, he promised himself to save Lorelei from the Basilisk. He would not let her trust in him waver.

"Me, too," said Ron.

Marcus immediately looked at Lockhart, who said, "Well, you hardly seem to need me," said Lockhart with a shadow of his old smile. "I'll just -"

Marcus wasted no time in firing off a warning shot of fire at the door knob, causing Lockhart to yelp and jump away from it.

"You can go first," Ron snarled, his wand pointed at Lockhart along with Marcus and Harry.

White-faced and wandless, Lockhart approached the opening.

"Boys," he said, his voice feeble. "Boys, what good will it do?"

"Better you than us," Marcus growled, forcing Lockhart to slide his legs in the pipe.

"I think I'll have to disagree -" Lockhart started to say, but Marcus wasn't going to hear it. He pushed him as hard as he could, Lockhart sliding out of sight.

 _"Lorelei, I will not fail. I will save you,"_ he thought as he jumped feet first into the pipe...

* * *

It was a hard, long day at the office. Lots of arrests were made, training was rather difficult to run with the new recruits, and Michael Williams wanted nothing more than to just go home with Brynn and crash on the couch.

He started to get up from his desk when he saw an unusual sight.

He saw an owl flying through the office, coming straight at him like a rocket. He recognized the owl.

"Archie?!" said Michael increduously. "What are you doing here? At this time?"

Archie slowed down enough to get a rough landing on his desk and then proceeded to incessantly peck away at his fingers.

"Hey, hey, take it easy!" said Michael. "What's the matter with you, Archie?"

He noticed a letter tied up to one of his legs. He unwrapped the letter from his leg, and noticed it was Marcus's handwriting as the envelope only said one thing: _Mom and_ _Dad._

"I wonder what this is about," said Michael, who opened the envelope, took out the parchment, and read:

 _Dad,_

 _I'm sorry this is coming to you as late as it is, but I had no other choice._

 _I've figured out where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is. It's in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, where the sinks are. I've also figured out who's the one behind the attacks. It's Tom Riddle, who went to Hogwarts fifty years ago when the attacks last happened. He somehow empowered a diary to act in his stead and it's been using Ginny Weasley to attack the Muggle-borns anew. And I also figured out what kind of monster rests in the Chamber._

 _It's the King of Serpents, A Basilisk._

 _I've decided to go down into the Chamber of Secrets and put an end to this horrendous nightmare, whatever it takes. By the time you read this, I'll most likely be making my way down into the Chamber itself._

 _In case the worst should happen, this letter is my way of saying good-bye to you and Mom. You two are the best parents a stubborn, growing boy could ever ask for. I know I have learned from the best, and I'll never be truly gone, as long as you remember me._

 _I love you, Dad and Mom._

 _Marcus_

His eyes grew wide, his heart skipped a beat in horror.

"BRYNN!" he roared at the top of his lungs. "COME HERE RIGHT NOW!"

In five seconds, he saw Brynn coming to a stop in front of his desk.

"What's the matter, Michael?" his wife asked him. She saw the look on his face and asked, "What's going on?"

"We're going to Hogwarts, now!" he yelled as he gave her the letter for her to read as he hurried out of the office.

He heard Brynn following behind him. He knew he had no time to waste. Each second they did waste left a greater chance of their son to...

All of a sudden, Brynn shrieked, "Has he gone mad?! He's gone off to fight against a Basilisk?! On his own?!"

"Not alone!" he told her as the two of them made it to the Atrium. "No doubt Harry and Ron have gone with him! We need to get there right away!"

"But we're not authorized to get there by Floo Powder!" Brynn told him.

"That's why you're getting us there!" Michael told her.

He looked back to Brynn, who nodded her head and said, "You better hang on tight this time."

And the two of them exited the Ministry of Magic...

* * *

Marcus felt like the slide would never end, like he would just continue to go down the slimy, dark pipe forever. Different pipes went in all directions, but they kept going, further down then Marcus even thought possible, perhaps even further down than the lake.

Then, at last, Marcus saw the pipe leveling out. He made sure to land on his feet. He looked around and noticed that he was standing in a stone tunnel that extended three times his height.

He made sure that Harry and Ron came out the pipe all right before he turned his attention to Lockhart, who was getting to his feet, covered in slime and as pale as a ghost.

"We must be miles under the school," said Harry, his voice echoing in the black tunnel.

"Under the lake, probably," said Ron, who was squinting around at the dark, slimy walls.

The four of them turned to look into the darkness ahead.

"I'll lead the way," said Marcus, looking to Harry and Ron. "I'll be able to know when the basilisk's coming -" he pointed to his eyes, "-and I'll let you guys know when to cover your eyes."

He then enhanced his vision, followed by Harry muttering, _"Lumos."_

His wand shone brightly enough to see a few feet in front of them.

"Let's go," said Marcus and Harry at the same time.

As they started to move down the tunnel, it was as quiet as a grave, which didn't settle well with Marcus. He didn't see anything to indicate that anything was living down here, and he jumped when he heard a loud _crunch_ made behind him. He whipped around, wand pointing at the ground, to find out that Ron had stepped on a rat's skull. Marcus surveyed the ground to find that it was littered with small animal bones. Getting a terrifying image of Lorelei being nothing but bones, Marcus pushed forward.

They got to a dark bend in the tunnel when Ron said hoarsley, "Harry, Marcus - there's something up there -"

Marcus stayed rooted on the spot, his wand slowly making his way to where Ron was pointing to.

He saw an outline of something huge and curved, lying across the tunnel. It wasn't moving.

"Maybe it's asleep," Harry breathed, glancing back at Ron and Lockhart, who had his hands pressed over his eyes.

Marcus' heart started to beat erratically as he pointed his lit wand in the direction of the outline.

He saw an enormous snake skin of a vivid, poisonous green color lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The creature that had shed it must have been twenty feet long, no doubt.

"Blimey," said Ron weakly.

Marcus then heard a sudden movement from behind him. Lockhart's knees had given way.

"Get up," said Ron sharply, pointing his wand at Lockhart.

Marcus sensed it a second before it happened. He jumped away from Lockhart just as he was getting up and diving at Ron, knocking him to the ground.

He pointed his wand at Lockhart, Harry beside him, while Lockhart pointed Ron's wand straight at him, a gleaming smile back on his face.

"The adventure ends here, boys!" he said. "I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you three _tragically_ lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body - say good-bye to your memories!"

He raised Ron's Spellotaped wand high over his head and yelled, _"Obliviate!"_

The wand exploded with the force of a small bomb. Marcus ran with Harry, arms raised above him, as great chunks of the tunnel ceiling were falling to the floor. Before Marcus realized it, him and Harry were looking at a solid wall of broken rock.

"Ron!" they shouted. "Are you okay? Ron!"

"I'm here!" came Ron's muffled voice from behind the rockfall. "I'm okay - this git's not, though - he got blasted by the wand -"

"Finally, that broken wand serves a purpose, though it came at a price," Marcus said out loud.

There was a dull thud and a loud, "ow!" It sounded as though Ron had just kicked Lockhart in the shins.

"What now?" Ron's voice said, sounding desperate. "We can't get through - it'll takes ages..."

Marcus knew there was no point in trying to shift the rocks right now. Ginny and Lorelei were already in the Chamber for hours. Any more time wasted and...

"Wait there," Harry called to Ron. "Wait with Lockhart. Marcus and I'll go on...if we're not back in an hour..."

There was a very uncomfortable pause before Ron said, "I'll try and shift some of this rock." It sounded like Ron was doing his best to keep his voice steady as he continued, "So you two can - can get back through. And, Harry, Marcus -"

"We'll see you in a bit, Ron," Marcus called out to Ron, who tried his best not to sound like a terrified boy.

And then Harry and Marcus set off, walking past the giant snake skin.

With each step they took, Marcus felt more and more terrified. He knew this moment was coming for a long time, but now that he was here, he didn't know what would happen. He didn't want to die here, and he didn't want Lorelei or Ginny to suffer that same fate. He also knew that he was going to be in for the fight of his life, and that was assuming he could get past that death-dealing stare of the Basilisk. The only slight comfort he had was that Harry was with him and he wasn't going into this situation completely unarmed.

Harry and Marcus turned at what seemed like another bend when Marcus saw it, causing his heart to beat very rapidly: A solid wall with two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.

Marcus started to shake all over, his heart feeling like it was going to burst right out of his chest. He knew what was waiting for them on the other side. He was still determined to go in there and save Lorelei and Ginny, but it still didn't stop him from feeling terrified.

He then heard Harry hiss in a low, faint voice, causing the serpents to part as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight.

Harry and Marcus looked at each other, their fears quite evident by the looks on their faces. They took a deep breath, looked ahead, and walked inside.

 **And that concludes this chapter of HP: The Secret Path! Feel free to leave a review, tell me what you think about this story! Or, if you have any questions, please feel free to leave me a PM. Don't worry, I will see them. Until then, keep your eyes open for the next, climatic chapter of HP: The Secret Path!**


	18. (18) Confronting The King

**Welcome, ladies and gentleman, to the next chapter of HP: The Secret Path! A major thank you for having read this story, it really means a lot to me. Also...**

 **Disclaimer: No ownership of HP except for OC's.**

 **Now, here is...**

Chapter 18: Confronting the King

 **Enjoy, one and all!**

Marcus had to take more deep breaths than ever before just to calm himself.

Marcus and Harry were standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber, even with Marcus using his enhanced vision. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling that was bathed in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.

Marcus' heart continued to beat very fast, faster than ever before, but gave Harry a soft nudge, indicating to follow behind him. Each of their footsteps could be heard echoing loudly around the chamber. Marcus glanced everywhere he could, looking for signs of a pitch-black object, but he could find none. However, more than once, he thought that the hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes were watching their movements and even thought he saw some of them stir.

Once they reached the end of the pillars, Marcus saw a statue looming into his view. A statue that Marcus had to look up in order to see the top of, which looked to be as tall as the Chamber itself. Marcus felt a little disgusted as he knew the statue he was looking was Salazar Slytherin. The face was ancient and monkeyish, a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And Marcus saw, between the feet, lying facedown, a small, black-robed figure with flaming red hair.

 _"Ginny!"_ Harry muttered, sprinting to her and dropping to his knees. "Ginny - don't be dead - please don't be dead -"

Marcus, meanwhile, hurried and scanned around the Chamber. Finally, hiding behind a fold of the statue's robe, was a familiar aura: It was Lorelei Flamel, and she was alive!

Marcus felt the biggest relief he felt in a long time. From the looks of things, Marcus reasoned that she must've casted the Disillusionment Charm the first chance she got and was able to follow Ginny undetected. Now, she was biding her time.

Marcus decided not to say anything, so as to not give her position away, when he heard Harry mutter, "Ginny, please wake up."

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a soft voice said, "She won't wake."

Marcus summoned his wand and faced the source of the voice.

A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was surrounded by an ominous, black aura, so Marcus had to return his vision to normal and, even then, he was still strangely blurred around the edges, as though he was looking at him through a misted window. But, there was no way Marcus would forget who this person was.

"Tom - _Tom Riddle?_ " Harry asked.

Riddle nodded, looking back and forth between Harry and Marcus.

"What d'you mean, she won't wake?" Harry said desperately. "She's not - she's not -?"

"She's still alive," said Riddle. "But only just."

Marcus didn't like this, not one bit.

"Are you a ghost?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"A memory," said Riddle quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary Harry and Marcus had found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Marcus knew that the diary would have to be near. Otherwise, they wouldn't be able to see Riddle.

"You've got to help us, Tom," Harry said, raising Ginny's head. "We've got to get out of here. There's a basilisk...I don't know where it is, but it could be along any moment...Please, help us-"

Riddle didn't move. Marcus figured he wouldn't. Why would he, after all, when Riddle had the two of them right where he wanted them?

Harry managed to hoist Ginny half off the floor, bending over to pick up his wand he threw to the side earlier.

But his wand had gone.

"Did you see -?"

Marcus looked up. Riddle was still watching them - twirling Harry's wand between his long fingers.

"Thanks," said Harry, stretching out his hand for it.

Marcus could see Riddle's smile curling around the corners of his mouth, continuing to look between Harry and Marcus, twirling the wand idly.

"Listen," said Harry urgently, his knees sagging with Ginny's dead weight. _"We've got to go!_ If the basilisk comes -"

"It won't come until it is called," said Riddle calmly.

 _"Well, that at least explains why Lorelei's still alive,"_ thought Marcus. He continued to look at Riddle, his anger rising, which was somehow able to keep him calm, his heart was starting to beat normally again.

As Harry lowered Ginny back onto the floor, unable to hold her up any longer, he looked to Riddle and said, "What d'you mean? Look, give me my wand, I might need it -"

Riddle's smile broadened as he said, "You won't be needing it."

Marcus pointed his wand at Riddle and said, "Let's try this again. Give Harry's wand back right now, or I'll blast you to oblivion!"

"Stay your temper, Marcus Williams," Tom Riddle said to him. "Do you wish for Ginny Weasley to die?"

Marcus, fuming, let go of his wand, which shot right back up his left sleeve.

"You know, I've been waiting a long time for this, Harry Potter," said Riddle. "For the chance to see you. To speak to you." He then looked at Marcus and said, "And you as well, Williams."

"Look," said Harry, who was obviously losing his patience. "I don't think you get it. We're in the _Chamber of Secrets._ We can talk later -"

"We're going to talk now, all of us," said Riddle, still smiling broadly, and he pocketed Harry's wand.

Marcus didn't want to waste anymore time. If Riddle had the ability to touch real objects, then he was somehow becoming more solid with each wasted minute.

"How did Ginny get like this, Riddle?" Marcus asked.

"Well, that's an interesting question," said Riddle pleasantly. "And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."

 _"I thought as much,"_ Marcus mentally surmised.

"What are you talking about?" said Harry.

"The diary," said Riddle. " _My_ diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes - how her brothers _tease_ her, how she had to come to school with secondhand robes and books, how-" Marcus saw Riddle's eyes glinting as he finished, "- how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would _ever_ like her..."

Riddle's focus was now entirely on Harry, so Marcus took the opportunity to get closer.

"It's very _boring_ , having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl," Riddle went on. "But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply _loved_ me. _No one's ever understood me like you, Tom...I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in...It's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket..."_

Riddle laughed, a high, cold laugh that made Marcus shake with anger.

"If I say it myself, boys, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted...I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of _my_ secrets, to start pouring a little of _my_ soul back into _her_..."

Marcus then said, "So, that's how you did it, you fucking bastard."

Harry turned to Marcus and asked, "What's Riddle talking about, Marcus?"

"Yes, Williams," said Riddle, a slight smile forming on his face. "Just what exactly am I talking about?"

Marcus took a breath and said, "Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets, Harry. She killed the school roosters and wrote the threatening messages on the walls. She set the basilisk on four Muggle-borns and Mrs. Norris."

"There's no way, Marcus," Harry whispered, horrified of what Marcus said to him.

"Although, that's not _entirely_ accurate," Marcus continued, diverting his attention to Riddle. "You, Tom Riddle, were actually the one who commited all those horrifying acts. But, you needed someone to use in order to commit them. So, you possessed Ginny by putting just enough of your soul into her to take control."

"Yes, Williams, that's exactly right," Riddle said calmly. "Of course, she didn't _know_ what was going on at first. It was very amusing. I wish you two could have seen her new diary entries...far more interesting, they became... _Dear Tom,_ " he recited watching Harry's horrified face and Marcus' look of anger, _"I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don't know how they got there. Dear Tom, I can't remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I've got blood all down my front. Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I'm pale and I'm not myself. I think he suspects me...There was another attack today and I don't know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do? I think I'm going mad...I think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom!"_

His hands were balled into fists, his anger getting near his breaking point. Marcus emitted a low growl.

"It took a very long time for stupid little Ginny to stop trusting her diary," said Riddle. "But she finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it. And that's where _you two_ came in, Harry and Marcus. The two of you found it, and I couldn't have been more delighted. Of all the people who could have picked it up, it was _you two_ , the very people I was most anxious to meet..."

"And why did you want to meet the two of us?" Harry asked. Marcus was wondering the same thing, only about himself. He knew why Tom was interested in Harry, but not about him.

"Well, you see, Ginny told me all about you, Harry," said Riddle, who then looked over to Marcus and said, "You as well. In fact, Ginny told me both of your _fascinating_ histories." His eyes roved over Harry's lightning scar, and Marcus could see the hungry look in his eyes getting more dominant. "I knew I must find out about the two of you more, talk to you two, meet you both if I could. So, I decided to show you two my famous capture of that great oaf, Hagrid, to gain your trusts -"

"Hagrid's our friend!" Marcus roared. "And you framed him! It must've taken little to no effort to make it look like he was the one who attacked all those innocent people!"

Riddle laughed his high laugh again before saying, "How right you are, Marcus! After all, it was my word against Hagrid's. Well, you can imagine how it looked to old Armando Dippet. On the one hand, Tom Riddle, poor but brilliant, parentless but so _brave_ , school prefect, model student...on the other hand, big, blundering Hagrid, in trouble every other week, trying to raise werewolf cubs under his bed, sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest to wrestle trolls...but I admit, even _I_ was surprised how well the plan worked. I thought _someone_ must realize that Hagrid couldn't possibly be the Heir of Slytherin."

"That's because Hagrid doesn't have what it takes to attack innocent people, Riddle," said Marcus. He pointed a finger at him and said, "But you do. You have what it takes, because you'll do anything to get power, even if it takes studying for _five years_ just to find and open the Chamber of Secrets! But, at least somebody was able to see through your pitiful little act."

Riddle had a look of anger on his face before he changed his face back to normal and said, "You must be referring to Dumbledore, the Transfiguration teacher. Yes, he was the only one who thought Hagrid was innocent. He persuaded Dippet to keep Hagrid and train him as gamekeeper. Yes, I think Dumbledore might have guessed...Dumbledore never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did..."

"I bet Dumbledore saw right through you," said Harry through gritted teeth.

"Well, he certainly kept an annoyingly close watch on me after Hagrid was expelled," said Riddle carelessly. "I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at school. But I wasn't going to waste those long years I'd spent searching for it. I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work."

"Well, you haven't finished it," said Harry triumphantly. "No one's died this time, not even the cat. In a few hours the Mandrake Draught will be ready and everyone who was Petrified will be all right again -"

"Haven't I already told you," said Riddle quietly, "that killings Mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore? For many months now, my new targets have been - _you_ -" He looked over to Marcus "- and _you_."

Marcus stared at him. Again, he couldn't possibly see why Riddle was interested in killing him.

"Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it was Ginny who was writing to me, not you or Marcus. She saw you, Harry, with the diary, you see, and panicked. What if you found out how to work it, and I repeated all her secrets to you? What if, even worse, I told you who'd been strangling roosters? So, the foolish little brat waited until your dormitory was deserted and stole it back. But I knew what I must do. It was clear to me that you two were on the trail of Slytherin's heir. From everything Ginny had told me about you and Marcus, I knew the lengths you two would go to solve the mystery - particularly if one of your best friends was attacked. And Ginny had told me the whole school was buzzing because you could speak Parseltongue, Harry...so, I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became _very_ boring. But, there isn't much life in her...She put too much into the diary, into me. Enough to let me leave its pages at last...I have been waiting for you two to appear since we arrived here. I knew you'd both come. I have many questions for you, Harry Potter."

"Like what?" Harry spat.

"Well," said Riddle, smiling pleasantly, "how is it that _you_ \- a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent - managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did _you_ escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"

Marcus saw the odd red gleam in his hungry eyes, and it reminded him of the Dark Prince, which caused him to deepen his anger.

"Why do you care how I escaped?" said Harry slowly. "Voldemort was after you time..."

"I'll answer that, Harry," said Marcus. He made sure to have Riddle's attention before continuing, "In fact, it's quite easy to understand. Think back to the memory Riddle showed us and to what he has said so far. He studied and searched for five years just to be able to attack Muggle-Borns as the Heir of Slytherin. Now, the thing that made me curious was the look you made shortly before you went through your plan to frame Hagrid, Riddle. You were conflicted, like you were stuck between a rock and a hard place. It didn't make sense to me then why you wouldn't act right away to stop the attacks. But, now I know. You didn't want to go back to that miserable orphanage...but you didn't want to give up your power, either. You crave power, just like a baby craves the attention of its parents. You'd do anything to get your hands on power. Manipulate people, steal, and even kill. In fact, you went to even further lengths to gain power after you were done attending Hogwarts, didn't you... _Voldemort_?"

"What?!" Harry said.

Riddle's face contorted to anger as he said, "You may look like your freak mother, Williams, but you remind me so much of your father that it disgusts me!"

He then pulled Harry's wand from his pocket and began to trace it through the air, writing three shimmering words:

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

Then he waved the wand once, and the letter of his name rearranged themselves:

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

"You see?" he whispered. "It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? No, Harry, Marcus - I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

"Now, I see where I fall into this whole mess," said Marcus. He looked directly at Riddle and said, "The Dark Prince kept you quite informed, didn't he?"

"That is correct, Marcus," Riddle said, that same hungry look, the red gleam in his eyes looking right at him, "My most faithful follower left some enchantments of his own on my diary. He was able to show me my battle against your father, Michael Williams, and it absolutely enraged me. I wanted to have my revenge on the blood-traitor, break his spirit. The Dark Prince also informed me that he has a son by the name of Marcus, and as soon as you wrote in my diary, I knew my chance had arrived. By killing you, I will break his spirit and, when I make my return and re-establish myself as the most powerful sorcerer in the world, I will first start by killing your father and then your mother!"

Marcus was beside himself with rage.

"You're not," Harry said, who spoke quietly, but voiced his own hatred.

"Not what?" snapped Riddle.

"Not the greatest sorcerer in the world," said Harry, breathing fast. "Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn't dare try and take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you're hiding these days-"

The smile had gone from Riddle's face, to be replaced by a very ugly look.

"Dumbledore's been driven out of this castle by the mere _memory_ of me!" he hissed.

"He's not as gone as you might think!" Harry retorted.

"As long as there's at least one person who is loyal to Dumbledore, he will _never_ be gone!" Marcus told Riddle.

Riddle opened his mouth, but froze.

Marcus heard music coming from somewhere. As Riddle whirled around to stare down the empty Chamber, the music kept getting louder. It was eerie, spine-tingling, unearthly, yet it somehow calmed Marcus down. The music reached such a pitch that he was sure that it was vibrating within his very body, and that's when he saw it.

Marcus saw flames erupting at the top of the nearest pillar, followed by a crimson bird the size of a swan, which was piping its music to the vaulted ceiling. It had a glittering golden tail as long as a peacock's and gleaming golden talons, which were gripping a ragged bundle.

A second later, the bird was flying straight at Harry. It dropped the ragged thing it was carrying at his feet, then landed heavily on his shoulder. As it folded its great wings, Marcus saw that it had a long, sharp golden beak and beady black eyes.

The bird stopped stopped singing. It sat still and warm next to Harry's cheek, gazing steadily at Riddle.

"That's a phoenix..." said Riddle, staring shrewdly at it.

 _"Fawkes?"_ Harry and Marcus breathed.

"And _that_ -" said Riddle, now eyeing the ragged thing that Fawkes had dropped, "that's the old school Sorting Hat -"

Marcus saw the patched, frayed, and dirty Sorting Hat laying at Harry's feet, wondering what on earth Fawkes would've brought that for.

Riddle began to laugh again. He laughed so hard that the dark Chamber rang with it, as though ten Riddles were laughing at once -

"This is what Dumbledore sends his defenders! A songbird and an old hat! Do you feel brave, Harry Potter, Marcus Williams? Do you two feel safe now?"

Marcus summoned his wand, gripped it, pointed it at Riddle and said, "Why don't you just shut up and fight?"

"To business, then," said Riddle, who was still broadly smiling. "Twice, Harry Potter - in _your_ past, in _my_ future - we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. _How did you survive?_ Tell me everything. The longer you talk," he added softly, "the longer you stay alive."

Marcus knew Riddle was stalling for time. He needed to sap every ounce of life from Ginny before he could be whole again, and even in that moment, Riddle was becoming more and more clearer and solid, making Marcus wanting to start their fight as soon as possible.

"No one knows why you lost your powers when you attacked me," said Harry abruptly. "I don't know myself. But I know why you couldn't _kill_ me. Because my mother died to save me. My common _Muggle-born_ mother," he added, who Marcus saw was shaking with suppressed rage. "She stopped you killing me. And Marcus and I have seen the real you, we saw you last year. You're a wreck. You're barely alive. That's where all your power got you. You're in hiding. You're ugly, you're foul -"

Marcus saw Riddle's face contorting before forcing an awful smile to form on his face as he said, "So. Your mother died to save you. Yes, that's a powerful counter-charm. I can see now...there is nothing special about you, after all. I wondered, you see. Because there are strange likenesses between us, Harry Potter. Even you must have noticed. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself. We even _look_ something alike..."

He then looked to Marcus and said, "We also have a few similarities, Marcus Williams. We do whatever it takes to better ourselves. We're driven, we thrive in combat."

He then looked to both of them and said, "But after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you two from me. That's all I wanted to know."

Marcus withdrew Abscido from his scabbard and got into his fighting stance, wand straight out ahead, sword positioned above him, both of which pointing at Riddle.

"Now, Harry and Marcus, I'm going to teach you both a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against famous Harry Potter and the blood-traitor's famous son, Marcus Williams, and the best weapons Dumbledore can give them..."

"You may try to take everything away from me, Riddle," said Marcus. "You can try to take my friends, my family, and even my life. But, there's one thing you will never be able to take...and that is my PRIDE!"

Then, he saw it.

He saw an image of a proud, powerful, and fearsome beast.

He remembered a conversation he had with Lorelei earlier in the school year...

* * *

 _"Marcus, when we are ready to 'complete' our top-secret, how will we know?" Lorelei asked._

 _"Well, according to what I've read, when we're ready, we'll be able to see an image of whatever form we're most suited for," he replied. "And, when this image is seen, the witch or wizard is supposed to put their entire mental focus on merging with the image. Once this is successfully done, we'll have completed the training..."_

* * *

Marcus immediately put away his sword and wand and shut his eyes, focusing entirely on the image, shutting everything else out.

The last one and a half years of training, studying, and mimicking movements were for this moment, when he was ready. He could see the image getting closer to him, slowly but steadily.

Then, he almost faltered. Marcus surmised that the Basilisk was about to be upon them, because his eyes started to hurt him again, the pain was beyond intense. He still kept his focus, despite the pain. Finally, with the last bit of mental concentration, he could feel the image becoming one with him.

He started to feel the effects taking place. He fell to his hands and knees as his torso was getting bigger, his skin was starting to transistion into a coat of fur, his hands and feet were shifting into paws with claws, and he could feel a tail starting to form from the bottom of his back. Finally, he felt his face, his upper body to the extent of just beyond his shoulder blades, and underbelly getting very hairy.

He opened his eyes and, while he seeing his surroundings with his Negative vision, his eyes no longer caused him pain. He felt every muscle in this body being stronger, and he knew he had accomplished his goal of one and a half years: He had become an Animagus.

He then noticed the Basilisk, who still had his eyes, based on the pitch-black beams that were hitting the floor. Somehow, things were simpler in this form. He didn't have to think too hard on what he needed to do.

He roared, causing the Chamber to echo violently, before he sprinted at the Basilisk's body, which was about as thick as a tree trunk.

Moving around in his animal form seem to come natural to him, and his training to move like this didn't hurt, either.

As he approached the Basilisk's body, something was distracting it, but he didn't dare to look up, not while it still had its eyes.

He climbed rapidly, using his claws to bury into the skin of the giant serpent, to reach its head. Once he reached the top, he saw Fawkes taking out its right eye, but had to flee before taking out the other one. Before the Basilisk realized it, Marcus roared and buried his front left paw into the left eye socket and ripped the eyeball clean out of its socket.

The Basilisk screeched in pain as Marcus, who shifted back into his normal form, slid down the snake.

He heard Riddle shouting at the snake, but he couldn't understand him. He didn't really care, either. Once he found himself standing on the floor, he looked at the edge of the statue's area to find Harry closing his eyes and hugging the wall.

Marcus then ran to the opposite side of Harry, withdrew Abscido with his right hand, and reverse gripped it.

The Basilisk was blinded, swaying around, but it was still deadly. Marcus then had an absolutely insane idea.

He shouted, "HERE!" in order to try and draw the basilisk to him.

It worked, as the King of Serpents turned in the direction of his voice and lunged at him.

He immediately slid to his left five feet, barely enough to escape the line of the serpent's attack, all the while twirling in a circle, bringing the blade just high enough.

He felt a little resistance to his sword before he cleaved right through.

His crazy plan worked: He was able to slice clean off the basilisk's top right fang, which was laying right next to his feet. The great serpent was banging the right side of his head against the Chamber floor, no doubt recoiling from the pain.

 _"I'll take that!"_ he thought as he quickly picked up the Basilisk fang and pocketed it.

He dared a glance at Harry, who, to Marcus' great relief, had his eyes opened, the Sorting Hat was sitting on top of his head.

 _"I better buy him some time,"_ thought Marcus.

Marcus ran until he was enough of a distance from the basilisk.

He could feel it. The excitement, the adrenaline, the rush of taking on something stronger than himself. He no longer feared the basilisk. He just wanted to fight it and bring it down.

"All right, King of Serpents," said Marcus as he felt his familiar fighting grin form on his face. "Now our battle BEGINS!"

 **(Music: Smooth McGroove's Castlevania II: Bloody Tears)**

He leaped forward, shifting into his Animagus form before sprinting at the snake. Using his Negative Vision, he saw a sillouette of the basilisk lunging at him, the real serpent following close behind.

He leaped to his right, barely dodging the attack, and roared as he brought his front left claws across the snake's body.

He shifted back again and leaped to the other side before the snake could attack the spot he was previously in. He quickly unsheated his sword and made a quick slash on the other side, causing the basilisk to screech again.

As he quickly sheathed Abscido, he once again heard Riddle screaming at the snake in Parseltongue, and the Basilisk shifted his focus to Harry, who Marcus saw was gripping a gleaming silver sword, the handle glittering with rubies the size of eggs.

Marcus had no time to wonder where in the world Harry got his hands on a sword as he yelled, "WE'RE NOT DONE, SERPENT!"

He shifted again into his Animagus form and leaped onto the body before making his way to the area where its head stopped and the rest of the body began. Before the Basilisk could strike at Harry, Marcus sunk his own set of fangs directly into the center area of the ending point of its head.

The basilisk screeched and violently went upwards, causing Marcus to let go.

He drifted in the air for a couple of seconds as he saw the Basilisk starting to go right back at Harry.

" _This fight ends here_ ," Marcus thought as he shifted back to normal and unsheathed Abscido, saying out loud, "Now, you die, King of Serpents!"

He angled himself as he started his descent so that he positioned himself above the serpent's head. With every ounce of strength in his body, he landed on the serpent's head, his strength behind the sword being driven through the top of the basilisk's head. At the same time, he saw the sword Harry was wielding before being driven through the roof of the Basilisk.

Marcus quickly withdrew his sword, shook the blood off, and leaped off as the King of Serpents fell sideways, twitching, to the floor. Marcus and Harry had defeated the Basilisk.

 **(End music)**

Marcus sheathed his sword as he looked at the angry Tom Riddle and said, "Even when you have everything stacked in your favor, you're still god-awful at finishing through."

"The Dark Prince was right about you, Marcus Williams," said Riddle. "You'll do anything to ensure a victory, even becoming an Animagus, which I'm sure took a long time to do." He then smiled broadly as he said, "Despite your impressive victory against the Basilisk, you still lost, Marcus!"

He saw Riddle pointing behind him and looked at a horrific sight.

He saw Harry, slumped against a wall, with a Basilisk's fang laying beside him, as well as a deep wound just above his right elbow. He then came to a horrifying thought: When Harry went to stab the Basilisk through the roof of its mouth, the other top fang must've sunk through his arm at the same time. Marcus also saw Fawkes laying his head on top of the wound.

"Your most important friend, Harry Potter, is dead, Marcus Williams," said Riddle from behind Marcus. "Dead. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing, boys? He's crying."

Realization hit Marcus like a ton of bricks as he thought, _"For all your intellect and cunning, you are an idiot, Riddle."_

He then kept the straightest face possible as he turned to look at Riddle, who continued, "I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Harry Potter. Take your time. I'm in no hurry."

Marcus had to not give anything away as Riddle said further, "So ends the famous Harry Potter. Dying by himself in the Chamber of Secrets, all of which is his friend's fault, the famous Marcus Williams, The Boy Who Won. You, Marcus, allowed Harry Potter to be defeated at last by the Dark Lord you two unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Harry...She bought you twelve years of borrowed time...but Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must...and don't worry, Williams. I'll ensure that you follow right behind Harry Potter."

"Just so you know, I will make sure to stay alive long enough for you to be brought down for good, Riddle," said Marcus, who had summoned his wand and pointed it at Riddle. "You, the Dark Prince, and every goon inbetween. I won't rest until this has been accomplished."

"What good will you be alone, Marcus?" Riddle said in a mocking voice. "You can't hope to stop my might all on your own!"

Marcus allowed a smirk on his face as he said, "I don't recall ever saying I was going to be alone, Riddle."

He then stepped to the side, to allow Riddle to see Fawkes healing Harry's wound with his healing tears.

Riddle realized what was going on as he suddenly said, "Get away, bird. Get away from him - I said, _get away_ -"

Marcus approached Harry, his smirk never fading as Riddle raised Harry's wand and fired a spell at Fawkes, which made a banging sound like a gun being fired, and Fawkes in flight again in a whirl of gold and scarlet.

"Phoenix tears..." said Riddle quietly, staring at Harry's arm. "Of course...healing powers...I forgot..."

He looked at Marcus and said, "Curse you, Marcus. You distracted me so that Dumbledore's bird would be able to heal Harry!"

"And you fell for it like a dumbass, Riddle," said Marcus.

Riddle was about to go into a rage, but then controlled himself and said, "It doesn't make a difference. In fact, this works out perfectly. Just the three of us; you, me, and Harry. I'll still be able to kill the both of you..."

He raised Harry's wand -

Then, in a rush of wings, Fawkes had soared back overhead and something fell into Harry's lap - _the diary_.

"Yeah, I wouldn't count on that, Riddle," said Marcus, who quickly got out his Basilisk's fang from his pocket, ran to Harry's side, and yelled, "Harry, together!"

Before Riddle could react, Harry and Marcus drove their fangs downward, striking the diary clear into its heart.

There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over their hands, flooding the floor. Marcus watched with satisfaction as Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then -

He had gone. Harry's wand fell to the floor with a clatter and there was silence. Marcus felt the biggest wave of relief wash over him as he took a glance at the diary, which was steadily dripping ink from the two sizzling holes that their fangs had created.

Marcus helped Harry up and said, "Well, Harry, I'd say the mystery's solved, huh?"

He helped Harry retrieve his wand and the Sorting Hat as Harry said, "Marcus, how did you - that animal - were you -"

Marcus smirked and said, "I'll explain it all when we get out of here, Harry, just like you're going to have to explain where you got that amazing sword from."

As Harry grabbed the sword in question, the two of them heard, "Marcus, Harry! Come over here! Ginny's coming to!"

They looked over to the source of the voice and Marcus saw Lorelei Flamel holding Ginny in her arms, who started to stir.

Harry and Marcus ran over to her as Lorelei gently sat her up. Ginny's bemused eyes traveled from the huge form of the dead basilisk, over Marcus, over Harry in his blood-soaked robes, and then to the diary in his hand. She drew a great, shuddering gasp and tears began to pour down her face.

"Harry, Marcus - oh, guys - I tried to tell the two of you at b-breakfast, but I _c-couldn't_ say it in front of Percy - it was _me_ , guys - but I - I s-swear I d-didn't mean to - R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over - and - _how_ did you kill that - that thing? W-where's Riddle? The last thing I r-remember is him coming out of the diary -"

"Ginny, everything's going to be fine," said Lorelei gently while Harry held up the diary, showing the two fang holes. "Harry and Marcus took care of Riddle and the Basilisk. You have nothing to worry about anymore -"

"Oh, Lorelei, I'm so sorry!" Ginny exclaimed, tears flooding from her eyes. "All those times I suspected you, and you were just trying to help me! I'm such a terrible person!"

Ginny then hugged Lorelei as Lorelei said soothingly, "It's quite all right, Ginny. Don't worry about it."

Lorelei then said, "Ginny, I'm going to check you for any injuries. Marcus, could you do the same for Harry?"

"Right, of course," said Marcus as him and Lorelei got behind Harry and Ginny, respectively. He looked to Lorelei, remembering another conversation they had...

* * *

 _"Lorelei, we're going to need to do something," said Marcus._

 _"What's that?" asked Lorelei._

 _"If I should be able to turn into my Animagus form, and Harry happens to see it, we need to alter his memory," stated Marcus._

 _"What if anyone else is around?" asked Lorelei._

 _"Them, as well."_

 _"But, Marcus, you trust Harry," Lorelei stated, looking confused. "Why would you want to do that to him?"_

 _"Because, I want him, Ron, and Hermione to know at the same time," Marcus stated. "If even one of them knew before the other two found out, they'd have to carry that secret and keep it from the others, and I don't want that. It'll be far easier for the three of them to know at the same time. That way, our friendship with each other is not compromised."_

 _"I - I understand," said Lorelei..._

* * *

Marcus counted to three with his right fingers and, on the third finger, both of them simultaneously pointed directly at the back of their person's head and said, _"Obliviate!"_

Marcus focused his concentration on altering any memory regarding him as an Animagus. Finally, after five seconds, the two of them stopped and Marcus said, "Well, Harry, I don't think anything is wrong. Looks like Fawkes' tears did the job."

Before Harry could say anything, Marcus heard Ginny sob, "I'm going to be expelled!" Lorelei helped Ginny to her feet as she continued, "I've looked forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since B-Bill came and n-now I'll have to leave and - _w-what'll Mum and Dad say_?"

Marcus was about to try and reassured her when he heard the sound of Fawkes from the other side of the Chamber, followed by familiar voices shouting, "Marcus! MARCUS!"

Marcus couldn't believe it.

" _Mom? Dad?"_ he gasped.

Sure enough, Fawkes landed right next to Harry as Marcus saw his parents coming into view, a mixture of fear and determination on their faces.

"I can't believe it!" said Marcus. "You guys actually made it!"

He saw his parents looking at him and his Mom approaching them, stopping a foot short of him.

All of a sudden, Marcus felt his Mom hug him as she said in his ear, "Marcus Williams, don't you dare do something as mad and stupid as going after a Basilisk ever again, you hear me?!"

Marcus returned the hug as he said, "Yes, Mom, loud and clear."

Once she let go of him, Marcus looked to his Dad, who was looking at the Basilisk and said, "I must admit, this is my first time seeing one, dead or alive." He then looked to everyone else as he said, "I'll have to be informed later. Right now, let's all get out of this horrendous chamber. Fawkes, would you be so kind as to lead us back to Ron and Lockhart?"

Fawkes then flew to the Chamber entrance, hovering there as he waited for everyone to get to the entrance. Once they all went through, Marcus heard the stone doors closing behind them with a soft hiss.

They made their way through the dark tunnel for a few minutes when Marcus saw what looked like a slight part of an archway that was created from the rubble of rocks, no doubt created by his parents.

Him and Harry saw Ron and Harry shouted, "Ron! Ginny's okay! We've got her!"

The two of them sped up as Ron gave a loud cheer as they went around the bend to see their friend's eager face, his body standing in the middle of the archway.

 _"Ginny!"_ Ron said as he approached her first. "You're alive! I don't believe it! What happened? How - what - where did that bird come from?"

Fawkes had swooped through the archway after Ginny.

"Oh, he's Dumbledore's," said Harry, who walked through the archway next.

"How come you've got a _sword,_ Harry?" said Ron, gaping at the glittering weapon in Harry's hand.

"Ron, I'm sure everything will be explained once we leave this place," said Michael, who was the last to go through the archway.

"But -"

"Later," said Marcus and Harry at the same time. Marcus knew that it was neither the right place or the right time to explain anything, not with Ginny standing close by, crying harder than ever. "Where's Lockhart?" asked Harry.

"Back there," said Ron, still looking puzzled but jerking his head up the tunnel toward the pipe. "He's in a bad way. Come and see."

Led by Fawkes, whose wide scarlet wings emitted a soft golden glow in the darkness, they all walked until they reached the mouth of the pipe. Gilderoy Lockhart was sitting there, humming placidly to himself.

"Goodness," said Brynn, who kneeled down to examine Lockhart. "What happened to him?"

"His memory's gone, Mrs. Williams," said Ron. "The Memory Charm he tried to cast on me, Harry, and Marcus backfired. Hit him instead of us. Hasn't got a clue who he is, or where he is, or who we are. I told him to come and wait here. He's a danger to himself."

Lockhart peered good-naturedly up at them all.

"Hello," he said. "Odd sort of place, this, isn't it? Do any of you live here?"

"No," said Ron, raising his eyebrows at Harry and Marcus.

"He must've tried to use Ron's broken wand to cast the Memory Charm," said Michael. "It was probably the nearest wand available. Regardless, I can't say we lost anything major."

Harry and Marcus made their way to the mouth of the pipe and looked up it.

"Have you thought of how we're going to get back up this, Ron?" asked Marcus.

Ron shook his head, but Fawkes had swooped past Harry and Marcus and was not fluttering in front of them, his beady eyes bright in the dark. He was waving his long golden tail feathers. Marcus understood what Fawkes was trying to convey.

"He looks like he wants you to grab hold..." said Ron, who looked perplexed. "But you're much too heavy for a bird to pull up there -"

"Fawkes," said Harry, "isn't an ordinary bird."

Marcus turned to the others and said, "We've got to hold on to each other. Ginny, grab Ron's hand. Lockhart -"

"He means you," said Ron sharply to Lockhart.

"You hold Ginny's other hand," Marcus said before continuing, "Dad, you'll grab Lockhart's other hand, Mom, grab Dad's hand and Lorelei, grab onto her hand."

Marcus waited until everyone was ready before he grabbed Harry's hand and said, "All right, Harry. Grab onto Fawkes' tail feathers."

Once Harry did so, Marcus felt himself feeling lighter than parchment and, the next second, in a rush of wings, they were flying straight back up the pipe. Marcus could hear Lockhart behind him yelling, "Amazing! Amazing! This is just like magic!" The wind was flying past his face, and much too soon, the ride was over - all eight of them were hitting the wet floor of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and as Lockhart straightened his hat, the sink that hid the pipe was sliding back into place.

Myrtle goggle at them before blankly saying to Marcus and Harry," You're both alive."

"There's no need to sound so disappointed," Harry said grimly.

"Oh, well...I'd just been thinking, Harry...if you had died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet," said Myrtle, blushing silver.

Marcus almost felt physically ill from that statement, despite it not applying to him, as they were all leaving the bathroom, walking in the dark, destered corridor outside. "Harry! I think Myrtle's grown _fond_ of you! You've got competition!"

But tears were still flooding silently down Ginny's face.

"Where now?" said Ron, with an anxious look at Ginny.

"I believe Fawkes is leading the way," said Michael, who pointed to the phoenix, glowing gold along the corridor. They strode after him, and moments later, found themselves outside Professor McGonagall's office.

Marcus stood behind Harry as he knocked and pushed the door open.

 **And that concludes this chapter of HP: The Secret Path! Please feel free to leave a review and tell me what you think of the story! Or, if you have any questions, feel free to leave me a PM. I promise, I will read it as I check my account everyday. Until then, keep your eyes open for the final chapter of HP: The Secret Path!**


	19. (19) A Job Well Done

**Welcome, ladies and gentleman, to the final chapter of HP: The Secret Path! It's been quite an interesting journey up to this point, and I promise you, it's only getting started! However, there's this to say...**

 **Disclaimer: No ownership of HP, save for OC's.**

 **Now, one and all, here's...**

Chapter 19: A Job Well Done

 **Enjoy!**

For a moment there was silence as Marcus, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Lorelei, and Lockhart stood in the doorway, covered in muck, slime, and in Harry's case, blood. Then there was a scream.

 _"Ginny!"_

Marcus looked to see Mrs. Weasley, who had been sitting crying in front of the fire, leaping to her feet, closely followed by Mr. Weasley, and both of them flung themselves on their daughter.

Marcus looked past them to find Professor Dumbledore standing by the mantlepiece, beaming, while Professor McGonagall was standing next to Professor Dumbledore, taking great, steadying gasps, clutching her chest. Fawkes whooshed past Harry and Marcus' ears and settled on Dumbledore's shouders, just as he found himself being in Mrs. Weasley's tight embrace, along with Harry and Ron.

"You saved her! You saved her! _How_ did you do it?"

"I think we'd all like to know that," said Professor McGonagall weakly.

Marcus then saw his parents entering the room and knew that he had to be careful what to say.

He waited for Harry to lay the Sorting Hat, the ruby-encrusted sword, and what remained of Riddle's diary before he joined Harry and started to tell everything.

For nearly a quarter of an hour, the two of them spoke into the rapt silence: They told them about hearing the disembodied voice and seeing an enormous pitch-black object, how Hermione had finally realized that they were hearing and seeing a basilisk in the pipes; how themselves and Ron had followed the spiders into the forest, that Aragog had told them where the last victim of the basilisk had died; how they had guessed that Moaning Myrtle had been the victim, and that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets might be in her bathroom...

"Very well," Professor McGonagall prompted them as they paused, "so you found out where the entrance was - breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add - but how on _earth_ did you all get out of there alive, Potter, Williams?"

So the two of them, their voices growing hoarse from all the talking, told them about Fawkes's timely arrival, about the Sorting Hat giving Harry the sword, and how Marcus was able to keep the Basilisk distracted long enough for the two of them to give the final blow. But, Marcus started to falter, which wasn't like him. He had so far avoided mentioning Riddle's diary - or Ginny. She was standing with her head against Mrs. Weasley's shoulder, and tears were still coursing silently down her cheeks. _What if they expelled her?_ Marcus though angrily. The last thing he wanted was for Ginny to take the blame for what Riddle had done. But, Riddle's diary didn't work anymore, so there was no way to actually prove it was _him_ who made her do it all.

Marcus automatically looked to Dumbledore, who smiled faintly, the firelight glancing off his half-moon spectacles.

"What interests _me_ most," said Dumbledore gently, "is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when my sources tell me he is currently in hiding in the forests of Albania."

Marcus felt a great amount of warm relief sweeping over him as he heard Mrs. Weasley say in a stunned voice, "W-what's that? _You-Know-Who?_ En-enchant _Ginny_? But Ginny's not...Ginny hasn't been...has she?"

"It was this diary," said Harry quickly, picking it up and showing it to Dumbledore. "Riddle wrote it when he was sixteen..."

Marcus saw Dumbledore taking the diary from Harry and peered keenly down his long, crooked nose at its burnt and soggy pages.

"Brilliant," he said softly. "Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen." He turned around to the Weasleys, who were looking utterly bewildered.

"Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school...traveled far and wide...sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here."

"But, Ginny," said Mrs. Weasley. "What's our Ginny got to do with - with - _him_?"

Marcus listened with a heavy heart as Ginny sobbed, "His d-diary! I've b-been writing in it, and he's been w-writing back all year -"

 _"Ginny!"_ said Mr. Weasley, flabbergasted. "Haven't I taught you _anything_? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself _if you can't see where it keeps it brain_. Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was _clearly_ full of Dark Magic -"

"I d-didn't know," sobbed Ginny. "I found it inside one of the books Mum got me. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it -"

"Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away," Dumbledore interrupted in a firm voice. "This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort." He strode over to the door and opened it. "Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up," he added, twinkling kindly down at her. "You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out Mandrake juice - I daresay the basilisk's victims will be waking up any moment."

"So Hermione's okay!" Ron said brightly.

"There has been no lasting harm done, Ginny," said Dumbledore.

Mrs. Weasley led Ginny out, and Mr. Weasley followed, still looking deeply shaken.

"You know, Minerva," Professor Dumbledore said thoughtfully to Professor McGonagall, "I think all this merits a good _feast_. Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchens?"

"Right," said Professor McGonagall crisply, also moving to the door. "I'll leave you to deal with Potter, Weasley, and Williams, shall I?"

"Certainly," said Dumbledore.

Professor McGonagall then looked at Lorelei and said, "Ms. Flamel, follow me."

"Yes, Professor," was all she said before she followed behind Professor McGonagall as the two of them left.

"Brynn and I will be waiting just outside, Dumbledore," said Michael. "There are a few things I'd like to discuss between us, you, and Marcus."

Marcus felt cold sweat dripping down the side of his face as Dumbledore merely nodded. His Mom and Dad then walked out of the office as well, leaving the three boys with the headmaster.

"Harry, Ron, I seem to remember telling you both that I would have to expel you both if the two of you broke any more school rules," Dumbledore said.

Marcus looked at Dumbledore in horror. Surely, with everything they did to put the terror to rest, they didn't deserve to be expelled?!

"Which goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our words," Dumbledore went on, smiling, making Marcus sigh in relief. "All three of you will receive Special Awards for Services to the School and - let me see - yes, I think two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor."

Marcus felt accomplished as he though, _"Well, so much for Snape taking 200 points away from Gryffindor."_

"But one of us seems to be keeping mightily quiet about his part in this dangerous adventure," Dumbledore added. "Why so modest, Gilderoy?"

Marcus, who had completely forgotten about the buffoon, quickly turned to see that Lockhart was standing in a corner of the room, still wearing his vague smile. When Dumbledore addressed him, Lockhart looked over his shoulder to see who he was talking to.

"Professor Dumbledore," Ron said quickly, "there was an accident down in the Chamber of Secrets. Professor Lockhart -"

"Am I a professor?" said Lockhart in mild surprise. "Goodness. I expect I was hopeless, was I?"

"He tried to do a Memory Charm and the wand backfired," Ron explained quietly to Dumbledore.

"Dear me," said Dumbledore, shaking his head, his long silver mustache quivering. "Impaled upon your own sword, Gilderoy!"

"Sword?" said Lockhart dimly. "Haven't got a sword. That boy has, though." He pointed at Harry. "He'll lend you one."

"Would you mind taking Professor Lockhart up to the infirmary, too?" Dumbledore said to Ron. "I'd like a few more words with Harry..."

Lockhart ambled out as Ron casted a curious look back at Dumbledore and Harry before following behind him.

Dumbledore then looked to Marcus and said, "Marcus, I'll only be a few moments with Harry. I'll let you know when to come back in."

Marcus nodded and proceeded to leave the office.

Marcus found his Dad leaning against the wall directly opposite to the door while his Mom stood close behind him.

That was until she saw Marcus and said, "Well, Marcus, it's been a long time since I've seen you wear that outfit. I can understand why you'd wear it, though."

"Yeah, I believed the situation was right for it," said Marcus, who grabbed the back portion of his battle cloak, tattered to shreds. "It looks like I won't be able to wear it again, though."

He looked to his Dad, who had his eyes closed, his brows furrowed. Marcus recognized this look: He didn't want to be bothered, and he only had this type of look when he was trying to mentally piece a lot of things together.

He stood there uncomfortably for a few minutes when he noticed something from his peripheral vision.

He saw two familiar figures making their way to Professor McGonagall's office, one of which had a look of pure fury on his face.

"Mr. Malfoy?" said Marcus. "And - _Dobby?!"_

Marcus then saw his father open his eyes and dart his attention directly to Mr. Malfoy, who seemed to pay him no mind as he violently made his way through the office.

"Stay here," said Michael in such a tone that Marcus didn't dare deviate from the area.

For quite some time, Marcus and his mom stood there, Marcus understanding very little about what just happened.

Finally, he saw Dobby leaving the office, Mr. Malfoy following right behind the house-elf. He heard Mr. Malfoy kicking Dobby, making him yell in pain.

Marcus was about to go chase after him when he saw Harry coming through the door, carrying the diary in his hand.

Marcus was doubly confused when he saw his father in the doorway, beckoning him in the office.

Marcus walked in, followed by his Mom, wondering just what was about to happen.

"So, Michael, what is it that you wish to talk about?" Dumbledore asked him.

"Well, Dumbledore, it has come to my attention that Marcus has not been entirely truthful about his involvement in the whole Chamber of Secrets debacle," Michael stated.

Marcus found himself feeling nervous as he said, "Dad, surely, you're joking!"

"Don't even start, Marcus!" Michael said to him, and Marcus didn't like the situation one bit.

"Michael, perhaps if you would be a bit clearer on what you're trying to say, that would clear things up," Brynn told him.

Michael took a deep breath and said, "When you sent the letter to me, Marcus, it was clear that you had the information stated in the letter for some time. One quick glance at you tells me that you've slimmed down about ten pounds, no doubt to be lighter and more agile on your feet in preparation for whatever you were going to go up against, in this case a Basilisk. Now, I'm going to ask you a few questions, son, and I expect straight, honest answers. How long did you know that there was a Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets?"

Marcus looked between his father, his mother, and Professor Dumbledore, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to get himself out of this. He took a deep breath and said, "Since the last day of January."

"Since January?!" said Michael in a raised voice. "Why didn't you go to Dumbledore, at the very least?!"

"Because, if I had gone to a teacher, the school would've been closed down as soon as possible!" Marcus exclaimed. "And that would not have solved anything!"

"What Marcus says is true, Michael," said Dumbledore. "If the school Governors found out that a basilisk was within the castle, they would've taken immediate action to ensure the student's safety."

"Understandable," said Michael, who still wasn't happy hearing Marcus's reply.

Brynn touched Michael's shoulder before looking to Marcus and saying, "Marcus, when did you find out that Tom Riddle was the one responsible for all the attacks in the school?"

"That, I found out shortly after Valentine's Day," Marcus stated. "Although Harry and I saw the same memory being shown to us, Harry believed that Hagrid was responsible, but I was able to see right through Riddle."

"What do you mean?" said Brynn.

"He used the same tactics I've seen Dad use on people," said Marcus. "He was very charismatic when needed."

Michael looked at him and said, "Tom Riddle reminded you of me? I'm not sure how I feel about that..."

"Though, I did mess up," said Marcus, looking to the ground. "I had a chance to hand the diary over and stop the attacks, but I was overconfident. I didn't think anyone would come and take the diary back."

"But," Marcus continued, "I found out about the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets roughly the same time as Harry and Ron. However, I couldn't access the chamber, because I needed Harry to speak Parseltongue at the entrance in order for it to be revealed."

"Harry can speak Parseltongue?!" His parents said at the same time.

"Yes, he can," said Marcus quickly. "But, that's not important."

Marcus looked at Dumbledore, who was giving him a piercing look. He felt as if his very being was being searched, and that startled Marcus.

"Michael, Brynn," said Dumbledore, who grabbed a rolled-up parchment, "I'd hate to ask, but could you do me a favor and take this to the Ministry for me? It's for Hagrid's release from Azkaban."

"Yes, of course," Michael said, taking the rolled-up parchment. "I'll be glad to help poor Hagrid get out of there."

Michael then turned to Marcus and said, "Your mother and I will be waiting for you at King's Cross at the end of the term."

He kneeled down to be face-level with him as he said, "Next time, Marcus, try to keep me and your mother informed. Never think you have to do anything alone."

"I will, Dad," said Marcus.

"Just so you know, you showed some really impressive detective skills, Marcus," said his father with a smile. "I'm proud of you, son."

He hugged Marcus, then stood up and his parents left the office.

"I can see that there are a few things bothering you, Marcus," said Professor Dumbledore.

Marcus looked at him and said, "Well, when Harry and I were down in the Chamber of Secrets, and Fawkes came to our rescue, he went to Harry, even though I'm just as loyal to you as Harry is. Does Fawkes...not like me?"

At that moment, Fawkes came swooping down and landed next to him.

Fawkes started to rub his face against Marcus's face as Professor Dumbledore said, "On the contrary, Marcus, Fawkes is rather fond of you, and that is saying something. He is rather picky on who he likes. No, Marcus, I believe that Fawkes realized that Harry was the one who needed help, more so than you did."

"Really?" asked Marcus. "How so?"

"Unlike you, Harry doesn't train himself to the extent that you do," Dumbledore explained. "He just wants to live like a normal wizard, to be able to attend classes like everyone else, and spend time with his friends like everyone else."

"But, I want all those things, too, sir!" Marcus explained.

"I never said that you didn't, Marcus," Professor Dumbledore said. "All I'm saying is that he doesn't realize the role that he will have to partake in, at least not yet. You, on the other hand, do."

Marcus knew exactly what he was talking about.

"You're referring to the Dark Prince, aren't you?" asked Marcus.

"I am," said Professor Dumbledore. "You know that the Dark Prince is a very powerful wizard, that he will be very hard to defeat. And you also know that, deep down, he's intent on coming back and finish what he has started."

Marcus wasn't able to say anything. What the headmaster was saying to him was very true, but he didn't want to say it out loud.

"You've come a long way since you first walked through the doors to Hogwarts, Marcus," said Professor Dumbledore. "And you know that you've already accomplished a lot of things, but you also know that you have a long way to go before you can meet your own goals. Although, I'm very happy to see that you were able to complete that particular goal. Not everyone can do such a thing."

"Nothing ever gets by you, does it, sir?" asked Marcus with a smirk.

Marcus saw a twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes that seemed to answer Marcus's question.

Marcus then proceeded to get up from his chair, walk to the middle of the office, and shifted into his Animagus form.

Dumbledore then started to walk around him, a smile on his face, peering through his glasses. He knew he could trust Dumbledore with this secret.

Once Professor Dumbledore was done, Marcus shifted back to normal, and the headmaster said, "It's been a long time since I've seen such a masterful accomplishment of that particular art."

He then turned back to Professor McGonagall's desk and said, "There are countless tales that are told here at Hogwarts. Some are considered fairy tales, and some are considered hard-learned lessons."

"And some are told as a precaution to young minds that might just think about being in places they shouldn't be," said Marcus, who was smirking.

Professor Dumbledore smiled at him as he said, "Ah, listen to us bantering! Go on, Marcus, go to the feast! I imagine that there are students that are most anxiously awaiting your arrival."

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore," said Marcus, who proceeded to walk out of the office.

* * *

Marcus had been to some impressive Hogwarts feasts before, but none of them were quite like this one. As soon as he walked through the doors, he was congratulated on being able to stop the terror that was plaguing Hogwarts all year with Harry and Ron. He joined Harry, Ron, and Lorelei as the feast went on all night. All sorts of amazing things happened, from Hermione running towards Harry, Ron, and Marcus, screaming "You solved it! You solved it!", to Justin hurrying over from the Hufflepuff table to wring Harry's hand and apologizing endlessly for suspecting him, not to mention Hagrid showing up around half past three in the morning, cuffing the three boys so hard they ended up face-planting their food and the fact that Harry, Ron, and Marcus's combined six hundred points secured Gryffindor the House Cup for the second year in a row, and there was Professor McGonagall standing up to tell them all that the exams had canceled as a school treat. But, the best thing that happened at the feast by far was Dumbledore annoucing that, unfortunately, Professor Lockhart would be unable to return next year, owing to the fact that he needed to go away and get his memory back. Marcus noticed that quite a few of the teachers joined in the cheering that greeted this news.

"Shame," said Ron, helping himself to a jam doughnut. "He was starting to grow on me."

* * *

That next night, Marcus and Lorelei went to the Room of Requirement to get their workout/self-training done.

"Marcus, can I ask you something?" said Lorelei.

"Sure, what is it?" said Marcus.

"When you were fighting the Basilisk, where you scared?" she asked. "I mean, I saw you fight it and it sure didn't look like you were."

Marcus gave a sort of hollow laugh before replying, "There was a part of me that, deep down, was terrified. One wrong move and I would've died. But, I knew that I couldn't fail. I had no room to fail." He looked at her before saying, "I wanted to ensure that your trust in me was not misplaced, that I would see to it that I'd keep you safe."

"So, Marcus, how does it feel to finally be an Animagus?" asked Lorelei with a smile on her face.

"It's actually feels pretty good," said Marcus, smirking. "Quite frankly, I got lucky. Maybe it was the heat of the moment, or something just happened to click, but I'm grateful that I can finally focus my training on other aspects of magic."

"I can't wait until I complete my Animagus training," said Lorelei. "I wonder what animal I'll become? A wolf, perhaps? Or maybe a snake?"

"Don't you even dare, Lorelei!" said Marcus, but then he saw Lorelei laughing.

"I'm just kidding," Lorelei said with her same amazing smile. "Hey, you haven't seen what you look like in your Animagus form, have you?"

"I've been a little preoccupied," Marcus said with a smirk.

"Room, can you provide the biggest mirror possible?" Lorelei asked.

As the Room provided a wall-to-wall, ceiling high mirror, Lorelei said, "Go on, Marcus."

Marcus then shifted into his Animagus form and looked at the mirror.

Even with his Negative Vision, he was astounded at what he was looking at.

He found himself as a lion. He stood sideways and figured he had to be somewhere around six to seven feet in length. Then, he turned himself so that he was facing straight ahead. From shoulder to shoulder, he had to be around three to four feet wide and around five feet tall. And he had a mane that not only reached halfway to his underbelly, but it seemed to be wild.

He reverted back to normal and said, "I recognize that particular breed. That's a barbary lion. They're considered extinct in the wild, and they're only found in zoos nowadays. I can take the form of a barbary lion!"

"I'm so happy for you, Marcus!" said Lorelei.

"But, I wasn't able to tell the color of my mane," said Marcus. "My vision in that form doesn't allow for color."

"The mane was crimson red, just like my hair," Lorelei stated. "And you had eyes that looked like pure gold in that form."

"Interesting," muttered Marcus. "My Animagus form actually shows my actual hair color."

"Do you have a name for your Animagus form," asked Lorelei.

"Hm," said Marcus. "I haven't actually thought about it. Well, let's see here -"

He thought about for a minute before he said, "-Leo. My Animagus name is Leo."

"Well, Leo, let's get to working out," said Lorelei. "We're not going to get better by standing around."

"Couldn't have said it better myself," said Marcus.

* * *

The rest of the final term passed in a haze of blazing sunshine. Hogwarts was back to normal with only a few, small differences. Defense Against the Dark Arts classes were cancelled ("but we've had plenty of practice at that anyway," Ron told a disgruntled Hermione) and Marcus was happy to hear that Lucius Malfoy had been sacked as a school governor. Draco was no longer strutting around the school as though he owned the place. On the contrary, he looked resentful and sulky. On the other hand, Ginny Weasley was perfectly happy again.

Marcus also made good on his bet with Hermione from the start of term by showing her the signed agreement about Lockhart being a fruad. She tried to give him his winnings, but Marcus refused, saying that Lockhart actually knew something and, therefore, nullified the bet. Marcus also made sure to give Lorelei a complete workout and diet plan over the summer so that she could continue the training on her own.

Too soon, it was time for the journey home on the Hogwarts Express. Harry, Ron, Marcus, Hermione, Fred, George, Ginny, and Lorelei got the biggest compartment on the train to themselves. They made the most of the last few hours in which they were allowed to do magic before the holidays. They played Exploding Snap, set off the very last of Fred and George's Filibuster fireworks, and practiced Disarming each other by magic. Marcus got so good that the others forced him to sit and watch while the others practiced.

They were almost at King's Cross when Harry seemed to have remembered something.

"Ginny - what did you see Percy doing, that he didn't want you to tell anyone?"

"Oh, that," said Ginny, giggling. "Well - Percy's got a _girlfriend_."

Marcus' jaw dropped while Fred dropped a stack of books on George's head.

 _"What?"_

"It's that Ravenclaw prefect, Penelope Clearwater," said Ginny. "That's who he was writing to all last summer. He's been meeting her all over the school in secret. I walked in on them _kissing_ in an empty classroom one day. He was so upset when she was - you know - attacked. You won't tease him, will you?" she added anxiously.

"Wouldn't dream of it," said Fred, who was looking like his birthday had come early.

"Definitely not," said George, sniggering.

 _"Oh, I'm definitely keeping this information in my arsenal,"_ thought Marcus.

As the Hogwarts Express slowed and finally stopped, Harry pulled out his quill and a bit of parchment and turned to Ron, Marcus, and Hermione.

"This is called a telephone number," he told Ron, scribbling it three time, tearing the parchments in three, and handing it to them. "I told your dad how to use a telephone last summer - he'll know. Call me at the Dursleys', okay? I can't stand another two months with only Dudley to talk to..."

"Your aunt and uncle will be proud, though, won't they?" said Hermione as they got off the train and joined the crowd thronging toward the enchanted barrier. "When they hear what you did this year?"

Marcus scoffed as he heard Harry say, "Proud? Are you crazy? All those times I could've died, and I didn't manage it? They'll be furious..."

Marcus saw Lorelei walking ahead of the four of them, and he heard Hermione speaking in a low voice to him, "You know, a lot of the first years said that Ms. Flamel started to really shine after Christmas and that she's definitely the best student of their year, by far. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Marcus?"

He allowed a smirk to form as he replied, "That's for me to know and for you to find out, Hermione."

He then walked through the barrier into the Muggle world, eager to see what this summer would bring...

 **And here ends HP: The Secret Path! Please feel free to leave a review, tell me what you thought of the story! Or, if you have any questions, please feel free to leave me a PM. I promise, I will read it! Now, there's going to be a few weeks between now and the next story, as I have to make some further progress with it, but I swear I will do what I can to post in a timely manner. So, until then, keep your eyes open for the next installment in this series, HP: Freedom's Path!**


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